0 Covconintro 1 Queer

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …AS…AS AA £3£3 NOTENOTE £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Issue Number One in the BENT COPPERS Series

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A slash zine of The Professionals

WARNING: THIS ANTHOLOGY CONTAINS SAME SEX, ADULT ORIENTED MATERIAL. IT WILL NOT BE SOLD TO ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF EIGHTEEN. Published by: Oblique Publications PO Box 43784 Tucson, AZ USA 85733-3784

[email protected] http://www.oblique-publications.net

Send SASE or email for information. Age statement required.

…As a £3 Note is an amateur publication, copyright © Feb. 1991 by Oblique Publications. All rights reserved. This copyright is not intended to infringe upon or conflict with other holders of copyrights. No reprints of any type are permitted without express, written permission of the publisher and individual contributors involved. CONTENTS £3£3£3 £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 AS QUEER BENT A SHILLING COPPERS SHOCKER A Summer’s Outing 5 In Flagrante Delicto 71 M. Fae Glasgow M. Fae Glasgow THRUPP’NY TWO COPPERS BIT TO RUB Panoramic View 25 Edi N. Burgh TOGETHER Own Goal 90 Murphy’s Law 32 M. Fae Glasgow L. A. Scotian Footbridge 98 BRASS Cally Donia

£3£3£3 2 FARTHING GUINEA £3£3£3 Nanny’s Teddy Tales and Other Bedtime Stories: Exeunt 42 TO A Emma Scot GOOSEBERRY Nanny’s Teddy Tales and Other Devices and Desires 109 Bedtime Stories: An Abarent M. Fae Glasgow Abearation 47 Gael X. Ile GOLD SILVER FOR THE THRUPPENCE FERRYMAN I Saw Three Ships 57 Silence = Death 136 Gael X. Ile M. Fae Glasgow

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 £3£3£3 TO OUR READERS £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …AS A £3 NOTE To Our Readers: On the Question of the Zine and its Title is as gay as they come and well-adjusted, in- Yes, the portion of the saying that comes be- deed, while in the next tale it takes him years to fore the ellipsis periods in ‘…as a £3 note’ is ‘As recognize and come to grips with his sexuality. queer as…’ and that’s precisely what we at Ob- But to return to storylines. Each tale in £3 lique Publications hope will spring to mind when makes a comment about a common Pros fiction you see it. £3 is our first effort at producing a convention or theme. In some, M. Fae Glasgow full length Professionals slash zine (There are a adds her own contribution to the existing library number of the Glaswegian’s Pros stories in our of stories; “I Saw Three Ships” is a Christmas Pæan to Priapus series.), and we don’t expect it story, sweet and touching and romantic, noth- to be our last. Only two sets of hands have ing out-of-kilter, while “Silence = Death” is a worked on £3: those of the editor—me—and death scene. those of one writer, M. Fae Glasgow, a tireless Ah, but that’s just the beginning. The wee and prolific Scottish nanny. We both hope you Scot has also chosen to write about Murphy, won’t be disappointed with the quality of the teddy bears, sports, undercover operations, contents. Glasgow, outdoor sex, Cowley, and a rather femi- On the Question of Queers nized Doyle. And these tales are not necessarily In a sense, £3 is not for beginners. I think it what you may expect—unless you already un- can be read and enjoyed by a Pros novice, but it derstand M Fae’s devious mind. She is psycho- does presuppose a working knowledge of the logical in approach and dark in execution. Be

Pros universe. If you have read widely among prepared for twists and turns, for white when £3£3£3 Pros fiction, then most likely you will be famil- there should be black, and deepest black when 3 iar with the conventions and themes that ap- there should be color. If a straight road leads £3£3£3 pear over and over. First and foremost is an ac- from A to B she will find a back alley that takes ceptance that Bodie and Doyle are/have been/ twice as long to traverse. She is a storyteller will become lovers. Call it the basic premise. with a lot to say! Then, building on this, a number of classic Her writing is solid and dense, utilizing every themes and storylines emerge. Some are obvi- last bit of allotted space on the page, any left- ous and universal, used in other slash fandoms. over whiteness methodically searched out and Others are quirky, odd, and restricted to the filled with more words. You’ll find she writes long Pros universe. £3 touches both categories. narrative passages punctuated by bursts of On the Question of Contents sharp, spot on dialogue. Well—at times the dia- It is my belief that the vast majority of Pros logue isn’t so short, but it always retains a sweet, slash stories are romantic pieces. Certainly our piercing clarity. And the sex scenes, oh the sex heroes have their ups and downs, their colli- scenes! They are vivid, richly detailed descrip- sions and miscues. Still, in the end, boy gets tions, hot and arousing and not for you if you boy and love conquers all. What more could we prefer to stop at the bedroom door. She says want? Well, rather a lot if you talk to the she likes to write these scenes in a ‘oner’: start- Glaswegian… ing at the beginning, fingers flying over the key- She insists that one of the most delightful board, hands never pausing or lifting until both aspects of writing slash—apart from the sex partners are sated and basking in the inevitable scenes!—is that as fantasy about fictional char- afterglow. acters, you can vary the parameters and specif- On the Question of Sources of Inspiration ics with each story. (Come to think of it, you You probably already know that a vast body can do that with any kind of fiction writing.) of Pros stories have been written over the last There is no need to always render Bodie and dozen or so years. (And if you don’t know, write Doyle in exactly one fashion. In one piece Bodie to me at Oblique Publications. I can send ad-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 TO OUR READERS £3£3£3 £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 dresses.) What a resource! The Glaswegian and On the Question of Spelling and Punctuation I cannot begin to list all the wonderful writers I’m an American and my writing appears with we have enjoyed, but if there is one to be singled American spelling. The Glaswegian attempts to out as a source of inspiration for tone and theme spell and punctuate in the British fashion, and and content, that person is Sebastian. She, too, any peculiarities are a sign of Scottish rebel- has a mind that twists towards a dark perspec- lion. You have been warned. tive on sexuality and the human condition. On the Question of Sequels On the Question of Words The Glaswegian says she won’t write any. If This is really a comment on wordsmithing: you want a sequel to a story or perhaps a differ- the act of creating new words, inventing new ent ending, you go right ahead and write it. M. vocabulary. You think that it’s not proper, that Fae will be flattered, even if you rewrite the story it’s somehow illegal? Sorry, but Shakespeare because you can’t stand what she did to the invented thousands of new words and phrases, characters; she certainly doesn’t mind engen- many of them still in common use today. The dering a little controversy. Glaswegian is taking a similar approach. If she On the Question of Culpability and Infallibility can’t find a term that says exactly what she I think the usual case is that writers are al- wants it to say, or if an existing word doesn’t ways wrong and editors are always right. Well, have quite the right sound or nuance to it, she’ll not in this zine. Ye editor hearby announces that simply ‘create’ a new term. As her editor I refuse she is to blame for the inevitable mistakes, ty- permission for about half of her new darlings. pos, continuity problems, and impossible sexual The other half I let her use. For example., ‘real- positions—even if it’s really the kiltie’s fault. ity’ doesn’t appear to have a counterpart On the Question of Thanking the Husband ‘surreality’ (or at least not in my particular dic- This is a ritual but not an empty one. He al- tionaries) and ‘surrealism’ doesn’t seem to con- ways reads various stories, makes comments,

£3£3£3 vey the same idea. So, you’ll find ‘surreality’ in and generally comes up with good suggestions. 4 several stories. The same is true for ‘mundanity’; The title “Own Goal” is his. Thank you, dear. £3£3£3 it just ought to be a word. —Caroline K. Carbis, Editor

May you enjoy reading the stories!

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 BENT COPPERS This is a serious story, a bitter, nasty tale dealing with the problem of recognizing and accepting who and what you are. It is also our bow to the oft written theme of Bodie and Doyle operating undercover as a gay couple. Several of those stories make for fascinating reading. We hope you will find this story just as fascinating, and above all compelling, although be warned that its approach, development, and conflict reso- lution send our boys in dark directions. The story was intended from the very first to be complete by itself. But if you’re an incurable Bodie and Doyle romantic, take heart. The companion piece, or sequel, is also in this issue and it will lead Bodie and Doyle from darkness and despair to light and love. A final word. “A Summer’s Outing” is set during the late ’70s. This means that the title is anachronistic. Outing is de- rived from a late ’80s term “to out”—literally to force a gay person out of the closet against his or her will. Anachronistic yes, but a highly appropriate title. A SUMMER’S OUTING M. FAE GLASGOW £3£3£3 5 Author’s note: I just wanted to mention a couple BOREDOM HAD LONG SINCE SET IN, CURIOSITY GIVING £3£3£3 of things. First off, this does have a sequel, al- WAY TO THE ENERVATION OF WAITING. They simply sat ready written and in this ’zine, so don’t come to silent now, not even bothering with banter, the lynch me until you’ve read that bit, too! Sec- heat having dried all the witticisms up. Bodie ondly, this story is set in the ’70’s, so keep in was half-dozing, Doyle staring out the window, mind that homosexuality was only taken off the the frame making a picture of the city-scape that criminal statutes in 1967 and in officialdom at flourished outside, blue sky burnishing grey any rate, is severely not approved of. The atmo- sandstone and glinting off the purple moire of sphere for anyone homosexual serving in the the pigeon preening on the window sill. Even- Government at the time (and unfortunately, tually, the bird settled down, chest puffing up, probably still today, thanks to such delights as coos dying down into quietude. Doyle’s gaze Sections 25 and 28) was one of fear of being slowly came back into the room, to the plant, to caught and exposed. Even in the ’80’s, the gut- the polished gleam of desk and the matte of ter press in Britain was able to have a field day manila folder. He’d already read the contents, with ‘exposés’ of various pop-stars homosexual tossing the interesting bits over to Bodie to scan relationships, and careers can still be severely quickly before the Old Man came in. damaged by such allegations. Think what it But Cowley hadn’t come in, not at nine when must have been like for men who had grown up the briefing was supposed to start, not at ten when when what they wanted was still against the Betty had brought them tea, not even at eleven. law, albeit a rarely enforced one. Third, and Now the street below was filling with the muted lastly, the terminology. I’ve used ‘queer’ through- roaring murmur of the lunchtime crowd, hun- out, because at the time, that was the most com- dreds of office girls in their translucent summer monly used term, ‘gay’ not yet quite having frocks on their way to spend their luncheon vouch- reached its current usage. ers, hundreds of business men ogling the flash of leg illuminated by the brightness of the sun.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 And they were stuck in a stifling office, await- keeping it light and easy and free, letting the ing his lordship’s pleasure. There wasn’t the bond beneath the friendship slowly weave itself usual frustrated anger in them at this being left into reality. sitting like schoolboys outside the headmaster’s He was enjoying this time between them, this office: it was too simple a pleasure to be skiving anticipation kindling heat in the deeper caverns off after the helter-skelter of this month past. of his soul, bringing fire to places in himself that Doyle settled his bones a little more deeply into he’d never dared touch before. He was enjoying relaxation, allowing himself the luxury of let- the flirtations too, savouring the brief touches ting life pass by unhurriedly and unchecked. they allowed themselves: a caress of fingertip Listening to the occasional ripple of laugh- down a shivering spine, a brush of hand on a ter that rose above the flow of the crowd, Doyle stubbled cheek, the quick press of hip on quick- ran the files through his mind again, finding ening groin, gone before the arousal could rise them even more boring this nth time through. too far. Oh, yes, it was a rare thing they were Just a list of the many civil servants whom MI6 building between them, nurturing this amœba believed subverted over to the other side, that was slowly evolving and unfurling its of- whichever side it was in whichever case. Just fers of a future that would survive. Doyle a list of names, with photographs to go with stretched out a little more himself, uncon- some of the names, jobs done, positions held, sciously echoing Bodie’s pose, matching him sundry things in common… And not a single with what had grown to an almost—so just-on- common thread to tie them all together into the-tip-of-the-tongue almost—complete empa- uniform rope, as far as he could tell, nor any thy between them. His breathing slowed its ca- hint either of what kind of investigation was dence, lowering him into demi-dream, where it going on into which kind of skulduggery. Which was all right to fantasize and hope: all right in is why they were sitting there waiting for Cowley dream, for he knew that if Bodie were to wake,

£3£3£3 to come in and tell them what the connection there would be a moment of lingering tender- 6 was and where they fitted in. ness in his eyes that would match the sweet- £3£3£3 A truncated snore drew his attention over to ness of Doyle’s own dreaming. his partner, his pupils widening and eyes nar- He toyed, for a moment, with the idea of rowing as he feasted on the sight of Bodie reaching out, spanning the couple of feet that sprawled half off the chair, bone cords stretched separated them, and joining them at the hand, tight, shirt pulling out of the waistband, a frac- but the reality of being in Cowley’s office stopped tion of white skin exposed to the pretence of him, his hand falling to hang limply at the side coolness that nakedness offered. Doyle stared of his chair, fingertips brushing the coarse pile at him, following the lines of muscle, the curve of carpet instead of the plush of skin. Perhaps of flesh, the beauty of the sleeping face. tonight, if they got off early enough, Bodie would He was going to have Bodie, one day. invite himself over to be fed and between them, One day, when things were right between they could conspire to casually drop in one of them, when they could fuck without fucking up their myriad excuses and give him a reason to the relationship. There was a tantalising hint of spend the night. And then, he could reach out, more than just sex coiling sweetly between them, to link his fingers with Bodie, an invitation to glittering like agate in the sand when the tide stay, to let it begin between them… He smiled goes out, only to be covered again when the sea at that, the warm sun bringing highlights of washes in again. He couldn’t quite grasp it, not copper to his hair and a blush of colour to his yet, the promise amorphous and intangible, but cheeks. No, not tonight, Josephine, he thought always, always, almost close enough to touch, to himself in Bodie’s dreadful French accent, but slipping away when he reached for it. Per- not tonight. Too soon, far too soon. Needed more haps it was a matter of nothing more than tim- time. ing, or of trying too hard. It would happen, even- Needed, for that matter, to get a grip on him- tually, when it was ripe and ready and they were self and stop wallowing in fantasy. If Bodie able to make it work. But for now, it was enough caught him at this… He straightened in his for them to look, and then go off with their ‘birds’, chair, looking anywhere but at Bodie. It was too

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 easy to see all of Bodie’s messing about as invi- unfettered would inveigle him in—and all of this tation, when it really could be nothing more than was getting him nowhere fast, unless you the camping up that graduates of the Services counted encroaching arousal. Cowley’s office, were wont to do. Addicted as he was to with Bodie snoozing at his side, was neither the adrenalin, the danger itself was tantalising, but time nor the place for a quick wank. Not when it was, he reminded himself, sternly gazing at a he could get caught, anyway. So. A way to get cloud as if it harbinged thunder and not glori- his mind off what his body was shouting at him. ous summer, danger pure and simple. If he was Consequences. Yes, consequences would surely wrong, if Bodie were just piss-arsing about and do it. Just think about what would happen if then Doyle himself took him up on an offer that Bodie weren’t working up to anything other than had never been given…he’d be picking his teeth building the better queer joke. All his circum- up for a week. Too risky, just yet. spect, cautiously neutral questioning, dispensed He stretched again and despite his stern over casual pints and the dull routine of obbos warnings to himself, he couldn’t keep up his had been turned into comedy routines, laughed glower at the clouds, turning his attention back into oblivion. Carefully, with a policeman’s at- to Bodie. It wasn’t often he got a chance to watch tention to detail, he listed all the things that him like this, all supine and supple and bare, if Bodie did that could be considered precursors not physically, then emotionally. All the armour to sex. Then he listed all the things that could was off, here in the safety of their own HQ, just be pratting about. And then he listed all Bodie’s face softening to a moue of sleep. Gor- the perfectly innocent things that a man who geous, he was absolutely gorgeous, and the heat fancied another man might just manage to mis- gathering in Doyle’s groin had less and less to interpret out of sheer wishful thinking. do with the sultriness of summer. He wanted, The process was so depressing, his cock with a gnawing hunger and a burst of mouth- wilted more than the poor pot plant, there be- watering tactility, to taste that exposed banner ing not one thing that could point, irrefutably, £3£3£3 of skin, where it beckoned, pale and cool and at any real desire on Bodie’s part. And yet, the 7 mysterious. To know if Bodie tasted salty, or temptation to have Bodie was almost palpable, £3£3£3 sweet, or if the faint hint of musk that sur- drawing him closer to the edge of action, a tu- rounded him was on his skin or only in the af- multuous rush to the precipice that would ter-shave he used with religious, martinet effi- change them irrevocably from friends to lovers. ciency. Of a sudden, he was as tight-coiled as Not lovers, Doyle thought, sober yet from his an overwound spring, the need to move—now!— brush with reality. Not yet. It’d just be sex and threatening to drown him. But moving would once we got that out of our systems or got into wake Bodie and an awake Bodie would see the the habit of it, it’d never get beyond that—always bulging in his jeans and tease him about it, supposing I’m not completely off in reading Bodie. endless jokes about poofters and shirt-lifters, Be nothing more than a bit of shagging and then— arses and pricks. And God knew how he would pfft! Nothing. react to the teasing this time, with the way his And Doyle was nothing if not greedy, vora- mind had been wandering, as substantial and cious for more than what he’d had before. sane as the clouds he’d been watching. There’d been his share of and his fill of anony- Yet again, he turned away from looking at mous encounters in ‘discreet’ clubs; there’d been Bodie, clasping his hands behind his head, a more than his share of ‘favours’ as a copper, self-made stock to keep his idle hands from blow jobs and spread bums laid out before him doing Devil’s work. His neck was hurting, from in return for a blind eye being turned. He snorted the pressure of his hands, clenching together, in laughter, jolting Bodie awake, noticing Bodie’s each to stop the other from reaching down and abruptly questioning stare, not that he was undoing zip and fingering inside, where he about to illuminate him. No, until he was sure hadn’t worn any underwear, because of the heat. of his reception, Bodie didn’t need to know quite Because of the heat—what rubbish. Because of yet that his partner was queer, fond of women the hope that if Bodie were seriously testing the but fonder yet of men. Nor did Bodie need to waters between them, then the sight of Doyle know just how this particular ex-copper had

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 managed to end up with so many informants itself to use queers the way other idiots used owing him so many favours. It wasn’t even that blacks or Jews, and felt his stomach clench with he had been corrupt—not in his own eyes, any- the dismaying knowledge that the Law had way. He’d never accepted money, nor gifts. Never changed, but nothing else in this sceptr’d isle turned aside when real crime was going on. But had. Christ, if Bodie found out about him! He if a bloke had a few funny ciggies in his pocket scanned the rest of the story quickly, reading and wanted to keep his record clean by opening details that perfectly echoed the details he’d been his mouth or bum, well, that was different. And reading for months now, in story after story af- it had given him access to some truly useful ter story. It could be him, plastered all over the insider information: he’d caught many a big fish papers, if he weren’t careful. Or more than likely, from letting the little fishies go. He heard Bodie it’d be him plastered all over the pavement if move, heard the creak of stiffened bones as Cowley caught him breaking his word and Bodie stretched, heard the groan of leather as fucking around with men. In this day and age, gun was settled less uncomfortably on heat- in this climate, he’d be hung by his balls and prickled body. Yeh, he’d had men, more than left out to dry—if he were found out. That was Bodie’d had hot dinners. the golden rule, of course. Do whatever the hell And that worried Doyle. It was written all over you wanted, especially if you wore the right old him—or at least it was, to men who liked men— school tie, but don’t ever, under any circum- that he was available. And that meant he en- stances, get caught. For then the very people countered more than his share of gay or bi men, who most closely shared your…predilections and that, in its turn, meant that it brought him would be the first in line to rip you to shreds, back round in a full circle: did Bodie fancy him, lest the mud slung at you should stick to them. or was it just his own ‘bent’, so to speak, that Looking at the story, something clicked in the was making him parlay innocent camping into back of his mind, and he picked up the folder

£3£3£3 an offer he had no intention of refusing? He again, riffling through the pictures and names 8 glanced over again, to see Bodie staring at him of all the subverted. And found himself won- £3£3£3 with intense, uneasy scrutiny, so he looked dering if they were in this file only because they away, unwilling to face him. He wasn’t quite had agreed to sell their souls so that they ready to answer questions that Bodie wasn’t wouldn’t end up in that newspaper. quite ready to ask. Time enough later, always supposing Bodie shared this attraction… The door clicking open sounded a fraction of Giving himself something to do, he picked up a second before the faint plop! of the manila a tattered copy of the News of the World, raising folder dropping into the drawer, and the first of his eyebrows that Cowley of all people would Cowley’s footsteps merged flawlessly with the have a slag rag like this in his office, but that sigh of fabric as Doyle sprang back into his seat, thought soon went out the window. Another abruptly nonchalant, an expression of angelic headline in a very long list of headlines, all the innocence suspiciously covering his face. news that was fit to print, read all about it and “Jeremy Thorpe,” Cowley said, without pre- thus make him more skittish than any grown amble, setting off a sudden rumble of prescient man had the right to be: another civil servant fear in Doyle’s belly. “Elton John. The Right caught in a love-nest with his boyfriend, shock- Honourable Sir Robert Forsyth. Mr. Duncan ing pictures on p.3. He wasn’t about to look at MacPherson. Sir Geoffrey Percival. Mr. Michael Bodie, not when he was sure that the guilt was Symington, defence contractor. The Right Rev- written all over him.The sweat broke out under erend Hugh Pym. All men who have been his skin, where it made his flesh creep with the victimised by allegations of homosexuality by memory of the old, old fear. He’d come to man- those after money or power or secret informa- hood before ’67, with all the anguish and fear- tion.” He sat at his desk, sloughing jacket and filled discretion of those days. He read the lurid loosening tie, slapping a new file on the desk prose of the so-called newspaper, with its con- top in front of himself, his voice never once paus- demnatory and inflammatory choice of words, ing, but becoming sonorous, a minister deliver- with its po-faced self-righteousness that allowed ing Sunday sermon, his tone as smooth and

A pause, although neither list was close to office girls still laughing, the workmen still whis- £3£3£3 being completely disclosed, and by the time tling their rude appreciation, the pigeons still 9 Cowley had his glasses off and his eyes, wea- cooing in broody contentment. But in that of- £3£3£3 rily, wiped, the only thing for him to see were fice, there was nothing, just waiting. Bodie two agents facing him, defiance and aggression moved, restless, his mouth tight, his skin whit- marking them. “I think that’ll be enough for us ening. Doyle wanted to look at him, but didn’t to be getting on with for the now, don’t you? dare: he had too many demons riding on his The first list, well, you’ll have recognised those own shoulders to confront any of Bodie’s. And from the papers. The second and third…if ei- beneath it all, unacknowledged, unheard in the ther of you remember past last week, then you’ll clamour of rising uncertainty, was the stiletto- remember those names, won’t you?” smooth question slicing into him: and why Silence. Profound and defensive silence. Nei- hadn’t Bodie told him the truth? ther one of them willing to speak, neither one Nestled in with the reason why he hadn’t told willing to be the first to make the exposé real. Bodie his own little truth, that insidious nag- Doyle crossed his legs, one ankle going over the ging buried itself under the sound of Cowley’s other knee, a pose aggressive in its masculin- voice. ity, silently shouting out his refusal to be cowed. “The Minister,” he was saying, “has laid down Cowley rose to his feet, hand going to the small his own brand of the law. He wants all security of his back and then to the thigh that ached so risks removed.” badly, despite the heat and the relief that should Fired. He—they—were going to be fired. The have brought him. Other men suffered headaches anger began, the old St. George against the and backaches brought on by their stresses and Dragon, his own crusading zeal instigated not tensions: for him, it was the resurgent reminder for some abstract nor for some underdog, but of the sufferings of war. And this was, he argued for himself. “You can’t fire us! You know as well with himself once more, a war, and in war there as I do, we’re less of a security risk than the were always casualties. Even if the wounds Minister, with his bit on the side in the City while weren’t always physical, or honourable. the little wife keeps the home fires burning. I’ve

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 been queer from the start, you know that. And to be undertaken, a job to be done—themselves if you think that just because the Minister knows to be let off the hook. that I’m going to turn into some limp-wristed “And where’s that, sir?” Bodie asked for them poof who’ll hand over every secret he can get both. his hands on, then you’re a fucking idiot.” Cowley hesitated for a moment, visibly choos- Cowley stared at him, gimlet blue cooling him ing his words. “You two are going to—I believe down. the expression is ‘come out’?” “Sir,” he added, belatedly, sparing a glare at There was no confirmation from either one Bodie, cursing him for keeping his mouth shut. of them, just shocked hostility. “Cat got your tongue?” he asked, with all the “You’ll come out, as a couple, but discreetly, softness of hacksaw on steel. “Or is it just that very slightly, as if you were just getting compla- someone stole your fairy dust, tinkerbell?” cent, careless. That should flush out the ring of He saw Bodie swallow that, throat muscles blackmailers. When they approach you, you contracting, fists clenching, eyes going very, very come to me, and we go in there and get them.” hard. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black, “And then we go back to having birds and all Doyle?” The gaze was very insulting, defensive- is forgiven?” Suspicious, knowing Cowley and ness turned to hostility, fight, not flight. “And if the mores of Whitehall too well to believe that it anyone round here’s a fairy, wouldn’t that be could ever be so simple, Doyle asked more to you, petal?” have his reservations confirmed than his hopes Doyle opened his mouth, but Cowley spoke satisfied. first. “Shut up, Doyle. And you, Bodie. Come “No.” Bald, unadorned, the word lay on the on, the pair of you. Here you are, threatened desk like a gutted fish, until Cowley spoke again. with losing your careers, of being blacklisted as “Getting this bunch won’t solve the problem any undesirables by the security review board, and more than firing all the homosexuals would. No,

£3£3£3 all you can do is shoot each other in the back? we have to go to the root of the whole thing.” 10 I thought I had trained you better.” Another pause, another drink, then more words, £3£3£3 They matched each other for ill-grace as they these ones delivered only after Cowley had risen subsided under Cowley’s command, the habit to his feet and turned towards the window and not yet broken. away from them. “You two will have to stay pub- “As I said, before you two went into your com- lic, and prove that even homosexuals can be edy routine, the Minister wants all security risks good agents. You’ll have to be above all the usual eliminated. So does MI6, but that’s because they criticisms that are levelled at…your sort, of can afford to pay lip-service to the Minister on course, but that’s certainly not a problem for this. I don’t have that luxury. We’re still fairly you. After some time of this, I shall be able to go new, this department of mine, and I don’t have to the Minister with proof that it would be un- the manpower to just throw out some of my best wise to weed people out for one flaw in their operatives.” He fiddled with his spectacles, ab- character. Which means you two will keep your sently, while he looked at the two men sitting jobs instead of being turned out with ‘unstable’ opposite him, the sun sharply bright on the stamped all over you. And I won’t have to watch whisky glasses. “It took some rather…creative a considerable amount of money being thrown conversation, but I persuaded the Minister to down the drain. Not to mention a considerable try something other than wholesale firing. I told amount of effort on my part.” him that getting rid of people now wouldn’t solve “D’you honestly expect us to believe that— any problems, but just delay them. And that sir?” Bodie’s voice rang with the echoes of the the only way to actually solve the situation was parade ground, and with that, the chill rain of to cut the corruption out at the root. Which is Services disapproval of ‘that sort of thing’. “Come where you two come in.” off it. We’re being set up. We get to catch the The old patterns snapped back into place blackmailers and as soon as we’ve bagged them, from where they had been reeling in shock. A then we’ll be for the chop, won’t we?” quick glance of communication, that bespoke “I’ve already told you how it will be, so stop understanding, the recognition of an operation causing difficulties. You two are going to be the

“Look, Doyle, I’ve buggered a few blokes in time and effort refusing to see or hear. “Who? £3£3£3 my time, but only when there was nothing else Who the fuck’s been coming to you with lies like 11 available. It’s not the same as being a pansy.” that? Me and Doyle haven’t done a thing, not a £3£3£3 “Not the same? Like the ‘virgin’ who was only single sodding thing and not one of them can a bit pregnant—it didn’t count because she say any different. Never laid so much as a fin- didn’t enjoy it? Or doesn’t it count if you just ger on him, not for sex, anyway.” shove it up some poor bastard’s arse—mean to Tacit it may have been, but ‘methinks the say, it’s not as if you kissed him or any of that lady doth protest too much’ reverberated queer stuff, is it?” through the room, silence broken only when “That’s enough, Doyle. Bodie, I’ve already told Cowley spoke. “Be that as it may,” he said, with you to sit down once. I’ll thank you to remem- unwarranted mildness, “the…involvement you ber you’ve not been fired yet, so on your back- two have is common knowledge—or rather, gos- side and listen to sense.” sip, I suppose you’d prefer, Bodie. But all it will With exceeding ill grace, Bodie buttoned his take is to have you two seen to have access to lip, subsiding enough to obey the letter of even higher information than you actually have Cowley’s command, if not the spirit of it. His and at the same time, have you—become care- blue eyes were bitterly cold as he glowered at less with your relationship. Let yourselves be Doyle, heaping guilt upon his shoulders, for the seen, be less discreet than you have been up to real culprits were faceless and nameless and now.” far beyond his reach. Far easier then, to blame “I’ve already told you, Cowley, I’m not having Doyle for his apparently easy slide into leaving it off with Doyle!” the safety of the closet, than to face up to his “Och, what d’you think I am, Bodie? All the own little skeletons. nights when you’ve slept at Doyle’s flat and vice “Now,” Cowley was saying, watching them versa, all the times you’ve gone ‘to the country’ both very closely, “I don’t want any sudden with one another, when neither one of the pair changes in you. This has to be done slowly and of you ever showed the blindest bit of interest carefully—are you paying attention, Bodie?—for in the countryside before I paired you off. Aye, I

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 know what I did, when I put you two together. I ers-that-be decide are too risky because of whom said at the time that a good partnership is like they choose to…dally with, then that’s just the a marriage and never a truer word was said. thin edge of the wedge. What shall they come You know fine well I’ve never cared about what up with next, the Minister and his cronies, that you did, as long as the doors were locked and I’ll have to sack someone for? There’s not a single you didn’t take out an advertisement in the person in this department who’d stand too close Times. Now we’re wasting time because of your an examination, not if you’re going to be politi- fit of the vapours, Bodie, and I’ve got far too cally righteous about it. Get a move on, Doyle, much to do to be raking over this time and again. before our young Mr. Bodie has waylaid every I want the bastards that are going through our woman in London just to prove his point.” security teams like worms through an apple. “On my way.” But he paused going out the And you two are the best means at my disposal— door, sheaf of folders under his arm, hand on and I do mean disposal, Bodie. You’ll leave this doorknob, eyes on Cowley, his old copper’s in- department when I damn well please, and not a stincts digging for whatever the Old Man was second before, so you can just wipe that look hiding. “The long-term benefits of the Depart- off your face and get on with your job—before ment then, sir?” you end up so blacklisted that not even the Cowley didn’t acknowledge him, bar a Americans will employ you. Here, take these files mumbled “What else could it be?” and study them, they’ll give you all the back- The younger man departed, Cowley cast from ground you’ll need on the pattern of blackmail. his mind as he went off in search of the far knot- And this one, too. While you’re convincing ev- tier problem of Bodie. The Old Man, left sitting eryone that you’ve gone decidedly lavender, you at his desk in the hot glitter of the sun, felt very can be running this arms dealer to ground—I old indeed, far more aged than his years told want to discuss a wee matter with him and he’s him, more aged, even than his bones told him.

£3£3£3 being less than co-operative.” There was a crinkled and cracked photograph, 12 Bodie sat in his seat, a louring Sphinx, while crisp black and white tinged with the beginnings £3£3£3 Doyle gathered up the various files. A scant of sepia, and he took it from his wallet, smooth- glance in Doyle’s direction, and then Bodie was ing at it uselessly. The face looked back up at on his feet, a storm of hermetically sealed an- him, frozen in eternal stillness, a moment that ger, the fury wiped from his face and his eyes, would never pass, kept from the flow of time. It bespoken only by his excessive display of con- could have been his own face, trapped in a mir- trol. “Will that be all, sir?” he asked, making ror, but it wasn’t. It was his hero, the one per- Doyle snap round to stare at him, this mild mili- son he had striven so hard to be like, growing tary blandness unexpected. up with a father bedridden from the Great War, Cowley nodded, watching them both like a his strapping great son the man of the house, zoo keeper at the lion’s den. “For the time be- youthful zest to paper over the invalid’s wheeze. ing, Bodie, aye, that’s all.” Years, it had taken Cowley, to accept what the “Then I shall be on my way, sir. After all, I do police had told him that morning. Longer years still have a job to do, haven’t I?” still, to accept the truth that had festered in the Even the door was closed with quiet deco- battered old leather diary, words scrawled and rum, leaving disquiet blooming. “Go after him, blotched with the haste of honesty. Aye, he’d Doyle,” was all Cowley said, forbearing to com- tell them all about his fears for this organisation ment upon the insult that had shouted so loudly he’d built, and those fears were reason enough. from behind the quiet of Bodie’s words. No need for him to tell them about his beloved “In a minute. There is one more thing, sir,” elder brother and a career, and life, cut short this, as he draped himself with studied insolence by the blackmailer’s pen. No need to tell them on the rim of the desk. “And that’s the question at all… of why you’re sticking your neck out on this. Altruism’s not exactly your style, is it—sir?” “Hold your horses!” Doyle yelled over the gun- “You had better not be accusing me of altru- ning of the engine, wrenching the door open and ism, Doyle. If I get rid of all the people the pow- hurling himself in over the stench of tyres burn-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ing themselves on concrete. “Christ, like a bat Bodie turned towards him, a smile full of vi- out of hell, you are. Where are we going in such cious promise making him ugly. “Threat? Who a hurry anyway?” said anything about a threat, Raymond old “I,” the emphasis was vicious, “I am going chum? Friendly warning. Just count it as a over to the Swan, where I’m going to chat up a friendly warning.” pretty little barmaid who’s had her eyes on me The last time Doyle had seen such friendly for weeks, and then I’m going to fuck her into warning, he’d had his cheekbone shattered by next week. You can go wherever you bloody-well steel-capped boots. The anger from then rose, want to, as long as you keep your hands off me.” suddenly, an eruption from a wound never “Aren’t you going to say it? Oh, I am sur- healed, the unvented fury from his helplessness prised. It’s not like you to be so tactful and re- that night. “Yeah? Well, let me give you a friendly strained, Bodie. Shall I say it for you? Fairy. Or warning right back, Bodie. You see this?” he maybe you’d rather I called myself pansy. Or grabbed Bodie’s hand, forced it to touch the dis- nancy. Ginger. Queer. One of those do? Or is figured cheek. “You feel that?” as Bodie grabbed there another one you prefer? Which one d’you his hand back, stuffing it into his pocket as if to call yourself, Bodie? Eh?” hide the memory of that broken flesh. “You’ve The car swerved, tyres squealing, a vicious always wondered where I got that, haven’t you? snap of Bodie’s wrist turning the radio on full Queerbashers gave that to me one night when I blast, Tony Blackburn simpering away at deaf- was walking home. And d’you know what I did ening volume. about it, Bodie? Nothing, absolutely sweet F. A. Doyle turned the radio back off, his own voice I let them do me, because I was too fucking rising to fill the frigid silence. “Yeah, but you scared to stand up for meself and too fucking don’t call yourself that, do you? You’re a real ashamed as well. Told my dad it was one of the ladies’ man, that’s you, isn’t it, mate? Lady killer, local bully boys that did it, after my money. that what you prefer? Or are you willing to be Shame, Bodie, that’s what that lump on my £3£3£3 really brave and call yourself bisexual?” cheek’s always meant to me. Shame that I never 13 The car was filled with pop music, so loud it stood up for myself and shame that I was queer. £3£3£3 was hard to make out the song among the And if we do what you want to do, it’ll be no racket. An articulated lorry went past, kicking different from me running home with my tail up a wind that was hot, even at this speed. between my legs the night they did this to me. Bodie’s face set, white and hard as marble, his It’s the same thing all over again, Bodie. Except foot pressing down harder, the speedometer this time, I’m not running. This time, I’m going needle rushing farther round the dial. The sound to get them back for what they did to me. D’you of the lorry’s hooter, blasting at them, a blare of hear me, Bodie?” heat and dirt and diesel, and they were past it. “You go right ahead, Ray. Just go right ahead. “King of the road Bodie. That make you feel Let them label you queer and ruin your chances better, did it? Really proved your masculinity of staying on. Just go on and let them paint you there, convinced me at any rate. What’s next— into a corner and when you’ve finished letting going to take on the gorillas at the zoo?” them do that, you can sit back and let them tar Music still screeching, they fled the motorway, and feather you as well. Get them back! A load whistling to a stop by the kerb, a forest of banal of rubbish, Ray. The one’s that worked you over suburbia closing around them, a dozen net cur- are long gone and you’re not a teenager any tains at a dozen windows twitching, the noise more. You’re just letting them pull your strings and the car fuel for gossip for weeks ahead. and jumping wherever they tell you to.” “Get out.” “Maybe. But that’s still better than running Doyle stared at the graven profile, at the eyes away like a coward.” The sudden hand clench- turned resolutely away from him. “Give me one ing his throat brought tears to his eyes, his lungs good reason why I should.” struggling for breath. “I’ll break your neck if you don’t.” “Don’t you call me a coward, you bastard. “Threatening Her Majesty’s agent? Tut, tut, I’m not going in there like a lamb to the slaugh- Bodie.” ter, which makes me clever, not a fucking cow-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ard. Anyway, you’re the one that let them do tune on dinner and flowers and the theatre and you over the first time, not me.” what-have-you. And that’s when I’d go to one of The hand was gone and his own rose in in- the clubs and pick a bloke up. Someone who stinctive violence, but he clenched his fingers, knew the ropes, someone who wouldn’t compli- trapping the violence before it could overspill. cate things like a bird or a fairy would. It was “Bit bitchy tonight, aren’t you?” This time, he just for hard shagging. And I’m not going to let caught hold of Bodie before Bodie could touch them label me as a queer for the rest of my life him. He held on tightly, the fist trapped in his just so’s they can catch a few measly blackmail- hands shaking with bottled-up fury—and other, ers.” darker things that were roiling in Bodie’s eyes. “What about the chance to let other blokes Doyle waited, mouth closed to keep the wound- like us not worry about being kicked out if ing words inside, his breath coming from him they’re caught?” in gusts. Slowly, slowly, he calmed and the hand “That shining armour of yours must be ab- he held stopped its shaking. He saw a spasm of solutely roasting in heat like this. Gone to your cramp tie a bow in the long muscle of Bodie’s head, has it? Or’ve you just found yourself an- forearm, and he smoothed it out, letting go as other bloody crusade, Lionheart?” he saw the tension that clotted Bodie’s muscles There was silence for a minute, then Doyle every time he touched him. turned to look at him, willing Bodie to turn “All right,” he said, “all right.” He ran his round, pouring all his will into it, into the move- hands through his hair, then propped his arm ment it would take for Bodie to turn his head, in the open window of the sweltering car, his face him, look at him, let him see those deep mouth resting on his fist. “We’re going to kill eyes… each other at this rate, aren’t we? Which means Very slowly, the sun kissing the milkiness of we’d better get this sorted out—and bloody fast his skin, casting jaggy shadows where his eye-

£3£3£3 as well.” lashes cut the light, Bodie finally, inch by inch, 14 “Nothing to sort out,” Bodie muttered, look- yielded to the dark spell Doyle was working on £3£3£3 ing straight ahead, his body language denying him. There was no speech, only the barrelling Doyle’s very existence. “You’re a queer, been one sounds of traffic going by and fractious children from the start and never told me. Let me mess whining after a too-hot day at the park. Doyle about with you, thinking you were just a mate looked at him for long moments, while families and all the time—” straggled past their open car windows, until “And all the time,” the fulmination filled the there was enough hubbub outside to give them car, Doyle’s voice loud with his anger, “you were privacy. fucking around with more blokes than I was! “You really are worried over this, aren’t you?” Don’t come the innocent with me, Bodie. I saw was what he finally said, his own temper sub- that list in Cowley’s office—and there were more sided under the difficulties he could see plotted names on yours than there were on mine. Sup- out for years ahead, all of it revealed in the dark- pose that explains why you never told me you ness of Bodie’s eyes. “It really bothers you that were queer. You were too busy fucking anything people are going to call you a queer.” that would stand still long enough. But that’s “Don’t tell me it wouldn’t bother you? Give not quite right,” he went on, all plans of diplo- over, Doyle.” macy merrily racing to hell on the road paved “Course it bothers me. But being listed as with his good intentions, “you were too busy ‘unstable’ bothers me a hell of a lot more. Look, fucking anything that would bend over for you. Bodie, face it. If we do this job, the worst that But you’re not queer. Christ, Bodie, if fucking can happen is that they’ll fire us for being ho- fellas doesn’t make you queer, what does?” mosexuals. If we refuse to do this job, you heard “Look, Doyle, I don’t know what you get up Cowley. They’ll say we’re as mad as hatters and to when you’re with blokes, but for me, it’s purely security risks to boot. And we won’t be able to physical. Sometimes I don’t feel like being all get jobs as lollipop men if that happens. Any- gentle and romantic, sometimes I don’t feel like way, the way this is being done, after it’s all whispering sweet nothings and spending a for- over, we can claim we were just undercover.

Bodie was beginning the mating dance, setting that’s all. What’s the matter, Bodie? Have I got £3£3£3 the measured steps out before them, so much hold of the wrong end of the stick, is that it? It’s 15 picnic on a red chequered cloth, just waiting to not that you bend blokes over, it’s that you lift £3£3£3 be sampled, morsel by enticing morsel. “Well, your knees for anyone who’ll ask, isn’t it? And Bodie? What about fucking other fellas?” you can’t handle people finding out that great “Why d’you do it?” big butch Bodie, the stud of CI5 is just another “What’re you asking me that for? You’ve done ginger who claws and miaows and spreads her it enough yourself, you should know that by legs for a fella. What’s your name, sweetheart? now!” Wilhemina? Or Phillipa? Yeh, you look like a “No, not just doing it for jollies. You’ve never Phillipa. Call you Pippa when you were in the once uttered a mutter about people calling you Army, did they? Call you—” queer. Doesn’t seem to bother you. So…” he fol- The car came to a neck-jarring halt, the old lowed the flight path of an ebon-winged raven, woman crossing the street drawing them a dirty thinking that Doyle would either work out tra- look, wandering off quite happy to have an ex- jectory, or wax lyrical about the ominous por- cuse to bemoan the younger generation to her tent of raven taking to wing. It was better, re- cribbage party. In the car, there was a cessa- ally, to think about such things than to con- tion of time, as Bodie sat there, stiff and burn- front Doyle with a question he was almost afraid ing cold with fury. “Get out,” he whispered. to have answered. Doyle didn’t move. “So?” Doyle prompted, anxious to have the “Get out.” Barely breathed this time, real question asked so that the answer could come danger inherent in every syllable. out into the open, so that he could get them Still Doyle didn’t move, although he stoppered started, now that he knew for sure that all his mouth. Bodie’s little flirtations were indeed flirtations “I swear I’ll do you, Ray, if you don’t get out.” and not just kidding. It took them a moment to register the sound, “So… So why do you sleep with blokes? You training taking over as Doyle snagged the ra- didn’t seem to think much of my reason.” dio. “4.5”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “17 Wickham Street and on your bikes! you wanted to kill, you just didn’t do it? Not Stewart’s got Fergheal Malloy and O’Riordan and much of a world, is it then?” they’ve got an entire family at gunpoint. Move!” Bodie put his hands on Doyle’s shoulders, Sleek as silk, the hostility was buried under easing him back until the one needing support a massive slab of professionalism, the personal had all the force of their partnership to hold battles postponed until the public had been won. him up. They stood there, in the window, watch- The car took off smoothly as Doyle responded ing the dawn rise, the mark of how much time to Cowley, everything else secondary in the face they’d been here, besieging a pair of lunatics of emergency. gone wild. Doyle leaned against Bodie, not thinking a thing, just feeling, body automatically HE WONDERED IF THE STAINS WOULD EVER COME OUT holstering his gun, mind adrift on tiredness and OF THE PARQUET FLOOR, or if there’d always have to lack of food. A cup of tea and a soggy sausage be a rug casually scattered there to cover the sandwich half-eaten before midnight had long splatter of blood. It had been messy, hideously since left him, consumed by the adrenalin rush. messy, making his bones ache with man’s in- Relaxing into Bodie, letting the warmth flow humanity to man. He had wanted to kill that through him, he felt the first sweet curls of bastard where he’d found him, wanted it so arousal. He smiled, albeit with an edge of bit- badly he could taste the blood in his mouth and terness from the nightmare of this place still smell death on the vicious little man who had echoing in him. done what he’d done to the young girl. His gun Bodie let him lean on him, doing for Doyle was still dangling from his fingers as he stared what Doyle had done for him, when he’d needed out the window, his back to the room now as it after some particularly trying job. It was what the others finished the ugly task of mopping up mates were for, after all, the partnership that the mess. There was that unmistakeable sound, was more important than anything else because

£3£3£3 the wet cabbage noise of head hitting canvas it was what kept him alive on the streets. There 16 stretcher, another dead body on its way to the was something tickling at the hairs on the back £3£3£3 mortician’s knife. of his neck, hackles rising as if there were still “Ray?” some danger… Slowly, knowing he was being “I wanted to kill him, Bodie. I wanted to see absurd here now that CI5 were the only living my bullet burst him like a tomato.” beings in the place, he turned his head to see Gingerly, Bodie approached him, watching what it was that made him feel back in the him out the corner of his eye, an experienced jungle, being watched by unseen hostile eyes. horseman with a colt. He’d known it was going McCabe. Looking at him, with a most peculiar to be like this, when he’d got in the house and expression. And all the words of the past day seen what Ray had been first to find. Ray al- came crowding back in to him, filling him until ways was worst when it was that kind of thing he thought his head would explode from it. He done to a child. “But you didn’t. You followed could remember everything said, every single the book, Ray.” last thing. And McCabe was looking at him as if “I was like an animal, no worse than him. I he’d never seen the likes of Bodie before. Specu- wanted to feel him die.” lating. As if he were wondering if Bodie really “Pack it in, Ray. You’re not the same as him. was queer… Bodie let go of Doyle as if he had Look at what he did. Even his own organisation been burned, spinning on his heel and getting wanted him taken out, he’d got so bad. And you out of there without even noticing Doyle stumble. didn’t do anything compared to what he did. Doyle caught the quickest glimpse of what Yeah, you wanted to kill him. But you didn’t. Bodie had seen on McCabe’s face and cursed, You won, Ray.” not quietly. He went after Bodie, as he had done “This time.” Doyle wiped the sweat from his just the afternoon before, although that felt at forehead, his weary hand leaving a smear of least half a lifetime ago. “Bodie!” he bellowed, blood to brand him. He stared at his hands, the hoarse from lack of sleep and the length of re- gun in one, the blood on the other. “Out, out port he’d had to give Cowley. “Bodie! Slow down, damned spot, Bodie? It’s called winning when you half-Irish idiot!”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 He was, not surprisingly, ignored by Bodie, “Fine. Whatever you say. Don’t let me or our although all the lingering CI5 people paid him partnership stand in your way. And don’t let the fullest attention. Like brush fires, flurries of what I want get in your way, will you, mate?” gossip erupted in his wake as he ran down the Several minutes later, Doyle was still stand- stairs at full tilt, chasing after and shouting at ing beside the fence, cataloguing, word by word, someone who had seemed even more distraught what had gone wrong between them. than he. The rumour mill went into overdrive, small words beginning their slow meander from “I’LL DO IT.” That was it. The sum total of fur- mouth to ear to mouth, from CI5 rest room, to ther discussion on the subject, then Bodie shut the pub at lunch time, to the ear of the ‘casual’ his mouth and kept his own counsel, stonewall- listener, to the mouth of the man who was al- ing every attempt Doyle made to thrash the situ- ways willing to pay for such intriguing informa- ation out. Conferences were held, strictly, coldly tion on government men falling from a state of business, stratagems were refined, specific times grace. and places were set up, until they had a time- But all that was beginning behind Doyle, table for this ‘coming out’. And the armed neu- whereas he was looking forward, determined to trality between them was as comfortable as the catch Bodie up, to pin him against the nearest trenches at the Somme and as murky. All the wall and knock some sense into him. old easy familiarity was gone, replaced by a cal- “You,” he said, when he finally had Bodie culated control of contact. It was a mirror now, pinned, not to the wall, but to the railing that of what had been before. Now, it was Doyle who had failed so miserably to keep harm out, “are would touch, repeating what Bodie had done to a stupid bastard. You went running off like that him. They were seconded to a very hush-hush because of McCabe, didn’t you? You fucking department, the kind that hadn’t been discov- prat, he was supposed to see us. Any road, we ered by the Press and thus had no name yet. weren’t doing anything we hadn’t done before, They knew they were being watched, playing to £3£3£3 so why’d you go tearing off like a scared virgin? their unseen audience, Bodie filling the rôle with 17 You’ll ruin everything if you’re not careful. Slow panache, but always from a distance, as if his £3£3£3 and easy, the Old Man wanted it. We’re sup- mind had nothing in common with what his posed to be on a job, Bodie, not playing at being body was doing. And always, always, with that Sister Immaculate Conception!” moment of tautness, when he would turn, and “Get your paws off me, Doyle! Christ, I’ve catch one of his own, one of CI5 staring at him… known octopuses with fewer hands than you.” Even the Minister watched them, calling them Doyle backed off; Bodie straightened out the in to his office to look at them, and exchange latest crop of wrinkles in a woefully wrinkled mocking, laughing glances with his Permanent shirt. “Now you listen to me,” very quietly, so Secretary. Bodie took it, stoically Spartan, suf- that no-one but Doyle could hear, keeping this fering like a man whilst others questioned his between the two of them, away from the ears manliness, never saying a word, never falling that were straining to hear what the hell was out of character, always, always, playing his part going on between them. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, I with surgical precision. stink to high heaven and I still haven’t decided But he made sure Doyle paid for it all after- if I’m going to take on Cowley’s filthy game.” wards. Every single look, every single word came “Then you’d better think about it before this back to haunt Doyle, for with every undermin- afternoon, because he wants to see us at four. I ing of his masculinity came the recrimination don’t want this assignment any more than you of silence that blamed Doyle for all of this. It do,” Doyle lied, ruthlessly elbowing seduction was, after all, the safest course to take. Truth scenarios out of his mind, “but I’m not going to always held such nasty pitfalls for the unpre- let them blacklist me. I’m doing this, Bodie, and pared and the unaware. I’m not letting you throw my career down the drain, not when there’s a chance I can salvage “THREE WEEKS. THREE FUCKING WEEKS AND NOT A it. If it’s not with you, then I’ll have Cowley put SINGLE NIBBLE.” Doyle threw himself down on a me on this with someone else.” chair, tugging his tie off, shedding his jacket

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 and kicking his shoes off with a grace of motion built like a tank and could kill him without get- that drew Bodie, until he reminded himself that ting out of breath. So he had stayed there, knees this was just a job, just a set-up. Just a way of aching and cold in a puddle, in a doorway that being blackmailed to stop other blackmailing. stank of stale urine, sucking someone out of “Twenty-four days of that lot,” Doyle’s thumb fear, his mouth filled with humiliation, his ears poked the general direction of CI5 HQ, “snick- filled with even more, as the other fellow had ering like poxy teenagers. And if I hear one more put him in the gutter. He’d remembered that queer joke—” night, over and over again, more since this op- “You’ll hit them with your handbag.” eration had started than he had in the years “Don’t start, Bodie. Don’t you fucking well before. He laughed at himself, not gently, mock- start.” The top three buttons of the fancy white ing his own Sir Galahad notions that had driven shirt were unbuttoned, punctuation for the de- him to join the Police when that night on his liberate invocation of their troubled truce. “I knees had taught him that being tough was suppose you’ll want supper?” nowhere near enough. He never had caught the “Who, me? When we had to take those two bastard who’d done his face in, even after he’d long-legged beauties home early because Cowley sucked him off, but he’d put away enough bas- wants us to start being a bit more blatant? Me tards in his place. want supper to replace my missed dinner? Per- He heard Bodie sneeze, and realised that the ish the thought.” nosy bugger was looking through his books, the “Then I won’t make you anything, will I? And undusted shelves triggering the infamous aller- before you think it, you can forget getting up in gies. Remembering some of the books that were the middle of the night for something to eat. It’s there, Doyle refused to blush. All part of the bad enough you having to spend the night here plan, those books were supposed to be. And without having to listen to you banging and clat- what did it matter if Doyle had enjoyed reading

£3£3£3 tering around at all hours.” them? Who knew, maybe if Bodie looked through 18 Doyle went in to the kitchen, pulling his socks them it would give him a few ideas. That was £3£3£3 off and tossing them into the corner where the why he’d left them there in the first place, if he launderette bag lurched against the wall, drop- were to be honest about it. He took his time in ping his belt over the back of the chair, whis- the kitchen, giving Bodie time to satisfy his cu- tling to himself as he washed his hands. He con- riosity about the kind of homosexual material centrated, fiercely, on the tune, leaving no room Doyle would read—and look at—and giving them in him for the tension. From the living room both time to fade the fraughtness of playing this came faint noises, of Bodie making himself less game publicly. It was getting easier now, for him uncomfortable in a house where he’d always at least, to make all the looks and innuendos been so much at ease. The tension began creep- and raised eyebrows stop bothering him. He ing into Doyle again as he thought about these could even, more or less, ignore the biting re- past few weeks and how much they were both marks made by two girls dropped off and paying just to keep the Minister off their backs. dumped by two men who made it plain they were And to keep himself from running, the way he more interested in each other than anyone else. had the night he’d had his face kicked in. The He took an inordinate amount of time over humiliation could still ambush him, when he putting a simple supper together, using the least expected it, even in the cheery brightness ritual of cooking to ease him from the outside of his kitchen, the sound of Panorama filtering world into the security of his own home. If all tinnily from the television in the sitting room, were to go according to his hopes, Bodie would the food hissing and sizzling away in the pan. look through the books, getting more and more Funny, in a way, how he couldn’t for the life of turned on by the pictures he saw and the words him remember the bloke’s face. But he could he read. The harsher memories of this evening still remember how he had tasted, shoving into would fade under the onslaught of sexuality, his mouth, while he had knelt there, taking it, then a little careful seduction, the pose in the hoping to escape a beating, shit-scared and doorway, the right degree of sexual heat exud- sweating, horribly aware that this bloke was ing when he sat beside Bodie, and they could

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 begin. They could touch and kiss, let this grow world to the way he saw it, and give Bodie the between them. Use the sex to go back to the lead. Within strict limitations, of course. Bodie beginning, when there had been the tingle of swallowed and Doyle watched the ripple of flesh, anticipation between them. Before being forced thinking how it would be to be in Bodie’s mouth into it had made Bodie run a mile. when he swallowed like that. If he swallowed Doyle glanced over at Bodie, at the handsome like that, the voice of caution muttered, remind- profile, at the hair that was curling, ever so ing Doyle of Bodie’s attitude to sex with men. slightly, over the white shirt collar, and his The voice was ignored, completely routed by the hands began to itch again with the need to sensual delight of watching Bodie and the touch. There was no doubt now, that Bodie had imaginings of what it could be between them. indeed been flirting with him before all this Oh, yes, that’s how he would do it: let Bodie started, but that uncertainty had been replaced take the lead, prove to him that it could work by a new one. The armistice between them was between them, give this form substance. This less strained now than when first forged, but coming out hadn’t been anywhere near as bad there was still the gnawing lie between them, as he’d expected, nothing more really than some that Bodie wasn’t queer or bisexual, but just a nasty comments and vicious jokes. Less, really, man who fucked other men, when there was than he’d had either as an art student defecting nothing else available. to join the Establishment or as a policeman Well, there was nothing else available tonight, shopping his fellow officers. And he had his was there? haven where he belonged: with Bodie, with CI5, Nothing to stop them. Nothing at all, and if with Cowley unchanged towards him. There was they had sex, then Bodie wouldn’t be able to a part of him, too, that was revelling in the keep on lying to himself and to Doyle. There was thumbing his nose at everyone, enjoying im- a flicker of anger in him, as the image of Bodie mensely the ripples of shock that spread in his lying to him regurgitated, but he pushed it aside: wake, laughing at those who tried to mock him. £3£3£3 he understood the fear of self-confession and of He wanted Bodie to have that, wanted him to 19 the pointing fingers. He wouldn’t give in to his enjoy the freedoms they were buying, instead of £3£3£3 inveigling temper but he would yield to the temp- this constant living on tenterhooks. Look at him tation to make this façade reality. They could, now, sitting there tense and stiff, uneasy instead he was positive, regain their old partnership that of relaxed. Stupid, really, to fight it so, when way, could recapture the friendship that had they could be having so much better a life. He almost atrophied under the strain of pretend- had no idea what the television was burbling, ing to be lovers when they weren’t. doubted very much if Bodie knew either. The He couldn’t keep his eyes off Bodie, intrigued, air between them was beginning to thicken with as always, by the contrasts the man offered. the draw of attraction and Doyle feasted his eyes Food was discarded, drink abandoned as he fed on Bodie, willing him again to turn, to look, to himself with the beauty of what he was seeing. open up… Hunger stirred in his belly again, reaching out And Bodie, feeling the eyes upon him, feeling to stretch all the way to his toes, curling them the desire banking up beside him, spreading with the insidious pleasure of watching Bodie. tendrils of heat—got to his feet. He and Bodie—they could have it all, he knew, “Right, I’ve been here over an hour, that could have something truly wonderful. As was should do it. You go upstairs, make it look like his wont, he’d spent hours worrying at this situ- we’re going to bed and I’ll put the lights out down ation, staring at it and staring at it, until he’d here and kip on the couch. Anyone watching’ll been able to sink his teeth into it and see the think we’re hard at it—always supposing some- solution that had been staring back at him the one is watching, of course.” whole time. Brusquely, he began setting the room up for Bodie hated to be trapped. Bodie hated to be occupation, but Doyle wasn’t about to accept tied down. Bodie hated to not be in control of those battle lines. “Got a better idea,” he said, his life. Ergo—give that control back. Stamp on arousal making his voice deeper. “Go upstairs his own temper, his own inclination to bend the together, leave the curtains open, as if we’d just

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 forgotten about them, and give anyone watch- ping convulsively at the ripeness of arse, clutching an eyeful.” ing Bodie to him, mouth marking the translu- “Don’t be stupid, Doyle. No-one’d believe that cent whiteness of skin. “Want you,” he mur- two agents would be stupid enough to get that mured, and Bodie’s hands came round to hold careless.” him. “Want to suck—” he took a tempting ear- “That’s not what Cowley said at the meeting lobe into his mouth, delivering on his promise, the other day, is it? And you kept mum about “—your cock down until you’re screaming to it, considering your opinion.” come in me. Want to be under you, on my knees, Bodie was quite resolute in his refusal to look you fucking me till I can’t stand up. Or on my at Doyle, although he was aware of him with back, so I can see you when—” he took one of every leaping nerve in his body. Bodie’s hands, shoved it into the seam in his “Oh for fuck’s sake, Bodie! Anyone’d think jeans, at the back, where the fabric pressed onto you’d never done it with a bloke. What the hell’s his hole, making him squirm, making Bodie’s the matter with you?” cock leap in helpless lust, “—you shove your A back, silently, eloquently turned towards prick up me.” him. Bodie was undulating against him now, pull- “Oh, that’s good, that’s really good that is. ing Doyle in close, closer still, tugging at clothes, Just don’t talk about it, don’t look at it and the pricking at nipples, smoothing swathes of lean problem’ll go away. You and MacMillan would muscle, his mouth open on Doyle’s neck, his have got on like a house on fire, sitting having shoulder, anywhere he could taste the clean salt tea together pretending that nice Mr. Hitler of skin. He cupped his right hand around the wasn’t going to hurt poor little Poland. Bodie, hard mound of Doyle’s cock, the heel of his hand will you talk to me? Bodie!” pressing into the hardness, his fingers reach- “What d’you want me to say, Ray?” Bodie ing below to caress the fecundity of balls and to

£3£3£3 erupted, pivoting round to face Doyle, going half- seek, slowly, with fire, the entrance to Doyle’s 20 way into defensive stance. “What d’you want to body. His other hand came to help, undoing £3£3£3 hear? That I fancy you? All right, so I fancy you button and zip, spreading fabric as he was soon something rotten. So now you’ve heard it. Stick to spread flesh, hands burrowing in to the spring poor Bodie in a situation where he can’t have of hair and the hardness of flesh. And Doyle’s any sex and he’ll pant after anything under 50 words were all around them, weaving magic, and still breathing.” pulling them both in, in, where there was noth- “So why not do something about it? You fancy ing but them and their bodies and the glorious me. I fancy you. The whole world and its granny feeling of sex. already thinks we’re having it off. Doesn’t make “Want you, Bodie. Want to hold you and never sense for you to be keeping your distance like let you go.” this.” And abruptly, suddenly, they were alone, The reminder of the watchers nipped at Bodie, separate, disparate, isolated, even in each sharp little teeth drawing blood. “Want me, do other’s company. Doyle heard himself all over you?” said insolently, with a glance at the ever- again, heard what it was that he had said. The tight denim at Doyle’s groin. “Fancy me?” this, words were a fulcrum, the declaration forcing as Bodie planted his legs wide apart, hands on upon them the moment when he would have to hips. choose to be what Bodie had called all the other “Christ, yeah,” Doyle breathed, eyes dilating men he had had sex with, or the moment he as if drugged, shutting out everything but the would risk it all and go for broke. He had waited sight of Bodie, willing, finally willing and wait- for so long to have Bodie, the ache more than ing, for him. A few steps and he was there, right merely physical, although his body was protest- there, plastered to Bodie’s front, his prick pressing loud and long at its abandonment. From the ing against Bodie’s, feeling his own erection grow first, almost, he’d wanted more from Bodie than against the heated movement of Bodie’s cock, the anonymous or casual encounters he usu- lengthening, hardening. He ground himself ally had to settle for. He had always wanted to against that, hardness on hardness, hands grip- build on their partnership, not around it. Or

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 under it, where it would erode the foundations tionary, as Bodie was so fond of saying, not in until one day, suddenly, they would turn round his book at all. To have Doyle, loving him… and discover they had nothing left. Pointing fingers. Knowing stares. Stigma. He had sworn to himself, when this had Shame, following him the world over. Meeting started, when he’d been forced into a decision old mates, looking for a job to replace this one about his lifestyle, that he’d never hide again. when the Minister and/or Cowley went back on And that meant emotionally, too. “Scared of that, what they’d said—all of that, with everyone are you?” he asked, his voice betraying none of pointing at him and Doyle, knowing. And want- his body’s passion and none of his mind’s tur- ing their share, of him, or of Doyle. And Doyle, moil. “You’ve never liked it when people get too wanting to hold him forever. Owning him, tying close. Hail-fellow-well-met, have another drink, him down, making him stay in the one place. tell another joke, that’s you. Never let them get Doyle had never been farther than the North of close. Well, you’ve already let me in close, Bodie. Scotland, and felt no desire to roam, content I know you, mate, I know you. Better than any- with the greenness of Britain, with the dichoto- one else ever has at that. You’ve never let any- mies he understood because he was a part of one see as much of you as you’ve let me see, them and they of him. It filled him up, spilling have you, Bodie? And you’re always giving me over, the thought of Doyle loving him. But it another snippet, a bit of something here, an emptied him, ebbing him away, the thought of insight there. You want me to be close to you, Doyle when the disillusionment set in, when the Bodie. You want me to love you, don’t you?” dissatisfaction crowded all the love out. For he He held himself very still as the moment took was no Doyle, to love and give and surrender Bodie, watching him intently. And Bodie, too, his soul. Not him. was on the sharp tip of the fulcrum, balanced And it never even occurred to him to wonder in his own moment, his own make or break. To at the way he looked at Doyle, nor the way he open, and thus yield, or to slam the doors closed risked his life for him, nor the way he already £3£3£3 and hug his freedom close in the sweet dark- put Doyle first in everything. It never occurred 21 ness where no-one could touch the centre of to him at all, for then he would have to question £3£3£3 who he was. He stared at Doyle, stared at the that most intrinsic of things, his own self-iden- fey gorgeousness of him, the animal allure en- tity. Only queers loved other men. Only queers snaring him, dragging him in to the trap he’d actually set up home with other men. Only never really fought against. For had he fought, queers were sweet and soft and romantic with he would have run, or cut Doyle off, or even other men. And he wasn’t a queer. Not a cream simply maintained proper, polite working dis- puff, not him. Fucking men occasionally didn’t tance. But it had never been like that with them, make a man queer, didn’t even make him bi- not even in the very beginning, when they fought sexual like Doyle claimed to be. Just made him like cat and dog and mixed like oil and water. a man who couldn’t do without it, even if it He’d always been drawn, Doyle’s hook in him meant fucking blokes. from the first second those green eyes had fas- He had taken too long to respond, and Doyle tened on him. He could feel Doyle’s will on him had the bit between his teeth, mouth off and again, that unerring pull, the palpable desire running, words spewing from him. “You’re just reaching out, tugging at him, tingling at his scared, that’s all it is. If I was a stranger, you’d groin. He could have Doyle, if he wanted, right have me on the floor by now, wouldn’t you? But now. Here, in this living room, without bother- it’s too risky for us, isn’t it, Bodie, cos you might ing with any of the niceties, the way he always actually get really involved. I wouldn’t be satis- did when it was malesex. So what was he com- fied with the way you treat your birds, with your plaining about? Why was he tearing off like a flowers and your chocolates and your sweet scared virgin? nothings. I want something real from you and Because hell may have no fury greater than you can’t handle that. You’re nothing but a cow- a woman scorned, but he’d take that over a fu- ard, Bodie. A pathetic little coward.” rious Doyle any day of the week. And Doyle had “Coward? Coward am I? I’ll show you—” spoken the verboten word. Love. Not in his dic- Doyle was inundated by him, his weight, the

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 smell of his skin, the press of his hands, the Bodie’s agony had receded to a dull tide of thrust of his hips. So sudden and so extreme, pain ebbing and flowing with his pulse. “Think Doyle was on the floor before he knew what hit you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? Can’t do that, him. His discarded shoe was digging into the you’ll break our cover.” small of his back, the coins in Bodie’s pocket “Not being queer, you wouldn’t know that were cutting into his hip. Bodie was forcing him, queers’ll fuck anyone that’s under 50 and still turning him, using superior weight to change breathing, even if they’ve got their boyfriend at this into a bout of rude, rough sex. and Doyle home. Some queers are really kinky, they like a was having none of it. He brought his knee up, bit of the old ménage à trois. But of course, not sharp, cruel and very, very effective. He saw being queer, you wouldn’t have any idea about without satisfaction, the tears spring into Bodie’s that. I’ll bet you don’t even know that some eyes as hands clutched protectively around his queers are so kinky, they like their sex rough.” manhood. Bodie was on his knees by now, breathing “If that’s how your idea of a good time, mate, close to normal, although that was the only then it’s a wonder you’ve still got a prick to use.” normality left in the room. “Don’t expect me to He was rising to his feet, nimbly tidying clothing hang around here while you fuck men, Ray till there was not the slightest hint of what they Doyle.” had come so close to doing before he had opened “Why—make you jealous, would it?” his mouth and had Bodie leap in with both feet. “Don’t be disgusting.” “Doesn’t say much for you, does it? Jumping me And with that last snatch of pride, the writ- like a bull in a brothel. What do you think I am, ing hand of Fate stroked all the t’s and dotted just another convenient hole for you to fill? Just every single last i. another arse to be buggered, never mind who’s “Disgusting, is it? It’s only all right if it’s not attached to it? Pathetic, that’s what you are, if much better than rape, tough guys just having

£3£3£3 all you can do is resort to what amounts to rape. a bit of a laugh? I’m not the one that’s disgust- 22 Well, I’ll tell you something, mate. I’ve had it up ing around here, Bodie. Not by a long chalk. £3£3£3 to here—” he bent down, chopped at Bodie’s You walk out of here and you’ll be walking out throat, “—with you. All that flirting at the begin- on this operation. You do that, mate, and I’ll ning, that was never meant to get anywhere, was make sure Cowley kicks you so far off the squad, it? All you wanted was to cop a quick feel or have you’ll end up in Siberia washing socks. I’ll see a good grope. You were never interested in tak- you shortly—when I’ve found a real man who ing it beyond that, were you? Too much of a can show you what it’s all about.” fucking coward. Well,” he whispered, right into A swirl of air, the chill of a draught, the slam Bodie’s face, giving no sympathy for the sight of of the door, and Doyle was gone. Truly alone pain-sheened skin, ignoring the wheezing bel- this time, Bodie hunched on the couch, head in lows of Bodie’s breathing, “you might be ashamed hands, not thinking, not doing anything but try- of being queer, but I’m not, not any more. You ing to get a grip on this evening that had wanted to sleep on the sofa? You go right ahead, kaleidoscoped so far out of his control. The door mate, don’t let me stop you. Because d’you know slammed again, but this time, there wasn’t just what I’m going to do? I’m going to be a good little the stomp of one pair of feet, but the patter of fairy, Bodie, and I’m going to go out and pick up two people, going past him, towards the stairs. the first half-way decent bloke I can find. Then “Emm, don’t mean to be nosy, but who’s he?” I’m going to bring him back here, and I’m going pleasant voice, pleasant accent, West Country to take him upstairs. He’s going to fuck me, Bodie, by the sound of him. while you sit down here, nice and quiet, and lis- “Him? Someone I work with, no-one impor- ten to us. Sound travels in this place, so you tant. He’s just kipping on my sofa for a couple should be able to hear every single noise. And of nights, that’s all.” you can sit there and think that it could’ve been Doyle put the lights out as he went past, you up there with me, if you hadn’t been such a switching others on as he progressed upstairs. wally. Nobody forces me, Bodie, not even you can Anyone outside, watching, would think they had get away with that.” struck a goldmine—not just two queers in the

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 department, but ones prone to adventuring, too. trick. But still, he waited for Ray to say some- And from the noises beginning to filter down thing, anything, that he could answer. Some- from upstairs, Doyle was no cowering mouse in thing that he could toss a flip comment at, turn bed. Bodie’s skin crawled when he heard the the second around, get them talking again, per- first shoe hit the floor. His stomach clenched haps get them to where they could perhaps at into a knotted, ulcerous fist when he heard the least take a look at this whole tangled skein. It first low moan. And his heart stuttered when wouldn’t take much, really, just a couple of he heard Ray laugh— words, although it would help tremendously if “Him? You’ve got to be joking! Queers scare one of those words was ‘sorry’. Just an oppor- the shite out of him. Anyway, I want a man to tunity to go back to what they had had before fuck me—” that godawful day in Cowley’s office. Wipe the —and he was on his feet and out of there, slate clean, start all over again, and this time, running, racing away from hearing any more, not let himself touch at all, ever, and not let escaping the sounds that were threatening to Doyle start all this crap about them being to- rip him open and expose him to himself. He was gether and never letting go. fleeing, as fast as his feet could carry him, from Doyle could see nothing of what was going the self-knowledge that threatened to shatter him. on behind Bodie’s imperturbable mask of disdain. His instincts had failed him, the lines of MORNING WAS ALREADY WELL UNDER WAY, HEAT AND communication severed weeks ago, the minute CAR FUMES RISING IN EQUAL MEASURE WITH THE TEMPERS Cowley had opened that folder and read from of those unable to escape the city’s cage before its list of names. Under his own burning be- they saw each other again. As if from behind trayal, understanding was fledgling rising, re- battlements, they stared at each other, Bodie minding him of how deeply and how well he felt poised on the way out, Doyle standing his for this man frowning at him from the door. All ground in front of him. They met each other eye it would take was for Bodie to wipe that look off £3£3£3 to eye, but there was nothing in the look, only his face, the expression that asked from under 23 the stonewalling set up for both protection and which slimy rock Doyle had crawled. All it would £3£3£3 attack. A long-stretched moment crawled past take was some indication of regret for going at leadenly, yet neither one spoke, each knowing, him like that. A simple sorry, that was all that in his heart, that the other should speak first, was needed, and then he would be able to let go should apologise first. Should first admit the of his defensive fury, to see what drove Bodie so pain… far away from the minutest hint of love. A tumult of bodies, tumbling through the door “Bodie,” he began, surprising himself with his in vociferous abandon, bumping into Bodie, own willingness to open negotiations, “listen…” shoving him out of the way with good-natured But that having been said, there didn’t seem to curses, coming to an abrupt stop as they saw be much to go with it, until he counted up how who else was there, and as the turgid atmo- many times this man had hinted at affection, sphere hit them. Not even the prospect of a long, or involvement, only to run when he was finally cold pint down the local could re-inflate their offered it. Forced into it, his conscience kicked spirits, so they were muted, words banal and him. “About what you did last night… Look, I’m cautious as they stepped past, on their way to willing to let it pass, if—” hurry round the corner where the speculation “You’re willing to let pass what I did? After all could begin. your belching about this fucking oppo, you go out Bodie felt the whispers of unsaid gossip pluck and blow everything? Including that whey-faced at the hair on the nape of his neck. He didn’t turd last night, I’ll warrant. But you’re willing to want this, refused the intrusion, refused to be let pass what I did? All I did, Ray Doyle, was give made public domain like so much flotsam. The you what you’ve been after from the start.” decision had been made, last night, to stop be- “What I’ve been after? Who was it who was ing pushed hither and yon by the flow of the always feeling up who, eh, Bodie? I couldn’t turn river. He’d never just drifted in his life, now was my back on you but you turned into a bloody far too late for this old dog to fall into that old octopus.”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SUMMER’S OUTING £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “Only after you ponced around in denims like it was Bodie who was hurtling along, shoving those, complete with strategic holes, of course. ID card and gun and ammo at Doyle, making Oh, yeh, Mr. Look-but-don’t-touch Raymond Doyle’s arms overflow with visible rejection, “see- Doyle. Pricktease, that’s what you are. You’re ing as how you want it all your own way, sonny, lucky I stopped when I did last night and didn’t you can have it. You said you’d see me out of just give you what you were really after.” CI5 if I fucked up this ‘chance’ of yours, so I’ll A coiled tornado of temper, Doyle stalked him, just save you the bother. When he comes in, coming up to within an inch of him, spitting the you can tell Cowley for me that he needn’t bother words at him, stung by truth. “I’m after some- waiting till all this is over to fire me, because thing you don’t recognise, even when it jumps I’m getting out, right now. And I’m getting far up and bites you. Unlike some people I could enough away that I won’t ever have to look at mention, I’m all grown up, Bodie, and I’ve got your ugly mug again.” past the spotty stage of shagging for the sake of An intake of breath, a frantic search for the it. I want a bit more in life, Bodie, such as love—” right words, but Bodie was already leaving with- “Love? You’re a fine one to talk. You never out so much as a backward glance. mentioned love, Ray,” Bodie sneered, coveniently Doyle felt the regret rise in him like death forgetting that it had been mentioned. “All you and squelched it, along with his feelings, mak- wanted was a good fuck and to own me. Never ing himself hard enough to cope, the way he let me go, you said. If it was love, mate, you’d always had. He’d survived worse than this be- stop thinking about no-one but yourself for a fore: he could survive this. He would survive minute and look at it from my side.” this. A moment to stare at the confusion of hard- “That’s easy enough done, isn’t it? All I have ware he held, and then he began putting the to do is disconnect my brain and think with my pain behind him. He absolutely did not, he tat- balls. That’s about as deep as your view of life tooed on the inside of his skull, where he just

£3£3£3 goes, isn’t it, Bodie? Well, you can keep it, mate. had to shut his eyes to see it, had not, loved 24 Christ,” he said, horror slowly dawning in the Bodie. Had been in lust with him, perhaps, but £3£3£3 back of his mind telling him what they were never love. Bodie’d been a good mate, like Sid doing here, what was happening here, but his Parker, although he’d never fancied Sid. That mouth streamed on, his anger too hot to let him was all it was: a confusion of two emotions, mix- slow down enough for his brain to catch up to ing up to pretend to being the possibility of love. it. He was hurling the words at Bodie, vicious Spine stiffening, head held high, control per- from his pain. “And to think I actually used to fectly rigid, he went off to his briefing, rehears- believe that the biggest problem was working ing in his mind what he was going to tell Cowley. out whether or not you’d have sex with blokes. He wasn’t going to run away, not the way he The biggest problem, mate, is that you’re a pa- had when he was young and scared. Never thetic little poof who’s too scared to even admit again, he’d promised, never again. He glanced, that to himself.” once, over his shoulder at Bodie’s retreating “And the biggest problem with you, Doyle, is form, but this time… This time, he didn’t go af- that you’re a selfish bastard who refuses to see ter him. beyond the end of his own nose. Here,” and now This time, he let Bodie go.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 THRUPP’NY BIT A thrupp’ny bit is a multi-sided brass coin. Similarly, the two stories in this section show us two different sides to the same theme of dominance and submission. The first is a softer piece, an exploration of the breaking of barriers to let complete love and committment come through. The second story is much harder in tone, delving into the psychology of power, violence, and control. In both pieces, Bodie is the focus. PANORAMIC VIEW EDI N. BURGH

“BODIE…” fellas. Some of them got to the point where Having cause to distrust that spectacularly wanking wasn’t enough and they went on from banal tone of voice, the body in the bed beside there. And yeh, I did fuck a few blokes there Doyle stiffened, made wary by cordiality. and I let a few of them fuck me. Satisfied?” “Yeh?” he finally ventured, it becoming obvi- Doyle leaned back on his pillows, bedside light ous that Doyle wanted to be drawn out on what- tangling with chest hair and the moonbright ever it was this time. glint of his necklace, as he carefully perused “It true what they say about mercs?” his oh-so-fascinating paperback. Without even

The bombshell dropped, exploding messily needing to look, he knew that this would be a £3£3£3 between them. The stiffness now was hostility proving ground for them, the moment when 25 and with it, an old friend, or enemy, depending Bodie either let him in or shut him out. And if it £3£3£3 on whether one were surviving in the jungle or was the door slamming in his face, then that’d trying to build a home: fear slithered coldly onto be it. All or nothing, he’d told Bodie that, till he the bed and under the covers with them. was sick of hearing himself say it. Not that it “Depends on what they say about mercs, had made the blindest bit of difference: Bodie doesn’t it?” just kept on going his own sweet way, doling “Not about the collecting ears or any of that out the barest modicum of trust to keep Doyle stuff.” sticking with him. Not for the bedroom, that lay- “Some did that. And if you have to ask me, ing-down-of-life trust that Bodie had tossed to then you’d better bugger off now before I smash him without so much as a ‘catch!’ when first you one.” they started as a team. No, that was only for “Know you didn’t, Bodie. And I’m not asking where it was safe, on the streets where dying about you,” the lie laughed loudly, mocking his was the greatest risk and living something that patent dishonesty, “just about mercs in general.” happened by accident. Bodie heaved a sigh, the action obviously He wanted more than that, wanted the trea- used as often as the cliché. Like a latecomer sures that Bodie had cached behind his façade schoolboy reciting yet again the Books of the of bonhomie. Wanted to possess and be pos- Bible in front of his form, Bodie began intoning sessed, wanted an end to this ‘good mates who the answer to the unasked question. “If you happen to screw each other’. What they had now couldn’t get to the cities, you’d find out if the could be chalked up to the simple fact that local women were available. An’ if you could get shared danger, shared lives, and shared ungodly your head separated from your shoulders for work hours could drive men to having a quick looking at them the wrong way or if you’d have wank alongside, until the loneliness of ‘women to marry them just to fuck them, then you’d just don’t understand us, mate’ enriched it to either wank or you’d wank with one of the other wanking each other, the lovely feel of another

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 PANORAMIC VIEW £3£3£3 Edi N. Burgh £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 man’s strong, sure fist wrapped around your obvious though the answer was, the solution cock. Then the need to snatch something good was far less simple. It was one thing to be con- out of the cesspit they lived and worked in vinced that Bodie really wanted the same kind transmogrified it into having sex with each other. of fantasy-made-real that Doyle did, another to Eventually even, if ignored nurturingly enough, convince Bodie of the self-same thing. Which is it could bloom into fucking, as it had for them. why they were lying here side by side, 36 hours Fucking, that was what he had thought would leave stretching languidly before them, with have been the ultimate between them, would Doyle ostentatiously buried in ‘Dispatches’. have been a serious commitment, would have “Good, that obviously answered your ques- been enough to cement them together. But all it tion,” Bodie muttered into Doyle’s silence. “I’ll had done was drive knowledge through his heart get some kip now, if you don’t mind.” like a stake: the more Bodie gave him physi- Burrowed into the bed, covers down to his cally, the more he was able to distance himself waist in the summer heat, the exposed expanse from Doyle. Nasty trick that, using intimacy to of back was a tundra of tension knotted muscle. keep your distance, but one Bodie was obviously Sleep was all very well to speak of, but that back a past master at, so good at it in fact, that it displayed that the mind was far from rest, was, had taken Doyle months to realise what the hell in fact, hip deep in memories that roused and was going on. undermined, all in one fell swoop. There was a And it was when he had seen what Bodie was stab of sympathy flashing bright through Doyle, up to that his own sharp brain started worrying so one hand abandoned his book to stroke the at it, chewing on it, going over it again and again, shoulder that still carried the mute scar. not to be satisfied until he knew. The answer, “Had a feeling that’s how it was when it came when it came, was stunning in its simplicity and to sex.” The reassurance, verbal and tactile, frightening in its possibilities. Bodie was keep- ebbed some the tension out of the muscles. “But

£3£3£3 ing aspects of himself hidden because they were what about the Game?” 26 overflowing with dirty little secrets, the kinds of The tension tsunamied back in, crashing £3£3£3 things a man would hesitate to admit to. And between them, a barrier of silence. Doyle, when he saw that, sitting over a cuppa “C’mon, Bodie, tell us. Did the Game really in the sitting room, watching Panorama, wait- go on?” ing for Bodie to get home from fetching the curry, Face securely hidden in his pillow, Bodie had laughed. A programme on the telly, all seri- nodded. ous and erudite and boring as hell, the secret “’D you do it, love?” to understanding the secret of his Bodie. No motion, no sound, no speech. Angola. The British mercs captured there. “Get off it, don’t be such a bloody coward, That’s what the report had been on, telling in mate. It’s not going to scare me off, is it?” He foul detail what these men had gone through in dropped his book onto the floor, the small thud prison, hinting with acute BBC decorum at the making Bodie start. Doyle soothed him, run- ties they had formed before, during, and after. ning his hands along satin-smooth skin, open- Bodie hadn’t been in Angola—never mind the ing his mouth to lick his way down Bodie’s spine, smoke-screen of lies he put about—but the prin- lapping up the lissome traces of salt sweat that ciple was the same. And there he was, keeping dotted there like rock pools on the shore. “Did his nasty little tendencies secret, giving both of you do it, Bodie? Did you play the Game? Fuck them the short end of the stick because he was people, did you? Wrestle them, fight them, get afraid of losing everything if he let Doyle see what them down on the ground and then shove it up else was still in this particular Pandora’s box. them, did you?” That was the best part of the joke: if Doyle No answer, save the convulsive shiver of were right, they were perfect halves of one whole. arousal that rippled the skin under his laving And so it all boiled down to whether or not Bodie tongue. “You can tell me,” Doyle whispered, would trust him enough to let him in, would bright eyes devouring the signs of sex that were care for him enough to let Doyle have all of him, beginning to pulse from Bodie. He pushed the would be willing to let them love each other. As covers out of the way, swooping down to press

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Edi N. Burgh £3£3£3 PANORAMIC VIEW £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 his face between Bodie’s cheeks, suddenly, one of those brief, bright moments where every- shockingly, sucking on the tiny bud of flesh thing ‘clicks’ and all is revealed in stunning sim- nestled there. He plunged his tongue inside the plicity, all the facts sorted and resolved by the dark depths, feeling the ring of muscle contract nether reaches of the mind. Quite comfortably, around him, just as he had hoped it would. Just illumination settled in his thick skull and he as he had wanted to feel it do, the desire grow- felt the skin on his face move with his smile. ing the more Bodie avoided anything like this. Saw Bodie’s anger wander into muddled confu- Needing to breathe, he got to his knees, sion. Felt his whole being shift, a tectonic plate, mouth and chin glistening from rimming Bodie. leaving one continent behind and coming into One finger slid in to make Bodie remember its own. The thought went through him, quite where his tongue had been. “It’s not as if I’m distinctly, with none of the usual flurried hys- your maiden aunt, is it? Go on, Bodie, tell me. teria of new ideas, the very sedateness of his Did you like doing it, getting the other guy down understanding telling him that this was what on his knees, ripping his trousers off so’s you he had known, but not told himself, from time could shove yourself up him? Like that, did you? immemorial. It wouldn’t be a matter of him go- Like the way it feels. Better than with me, eh? ing under to Bodie to force the bugger into some- Is it better, Bodie, when you get to force him? thing fierce and strong and enduring. It would Better when there’s a whole crowd of blokes be he letting Bodie do that very thing, he giving standing around watching and cheering? Say- Bodie what Bodie was too scared to ask for. What ing things? Did they pull their pricks out when Bodie was too scared to want. What Bodie they watched you, eh? Did they?” needed to be ‘forced’ into, giving all the respon- An explosion of movement and Doyle was sibilities for it over to someone else. Vulnerabil- under him, Bodie’s long legs straddling him, ity, not dominance, then, was Bodie’s secret vice, cock straight and hard, pointing at him with anathema to a Liverpudlian hard man. He wonderful threat. “Yeh, they used to stand stretched a little, Bodie’s buttocks warm and £3£3£3 around and watch and yeh, I used to play the heavy, Bodie’s eyes staring at him, and all the 27 Game. Any chance I got, Ray. Loved it, I did. while he could feel all the lifetime’s worth of £3£3£3 Liked it better than anything else. Got to where imbalances and seekings find their spot, turn it was all I wanted, couldn’t even look at a around and around and pronounce approval of woman, ’specially not after that bastard Krivas the new order. was finished with my girl. Couldn’t take what It didn’t matter to him that the wordlessness he’d done to her, so I went for men more than I had elongated to such lengths, for his hands used to. And it wasn’t till I realised that I was rested quite contentedly on the reins. He let fucking hooked on the Game that I even tried to them stroke flatly across the delicate blackness give it up. I managed it, Ray, by the skin of my of pubic hair, nails fingerpainting stripes of plea- teeth, but I could go back to it in a second, so sure along the curve of Bodie’s ribs, red roses don’t try and fuck around with me, all right? blossoming over Bodie’s nipples as fingers Cos if you do, you won’t get what you expected.” tugged at them. Behind the harshness was another truth, a lin- “You want it, then, do you,” Doyle murmured, gering wound that was suppurating secrets out lazy as summer on the river, not asking a ques- to where Doyle could read them. tion, simply stating a fact evidenced by the arch- Flat on his back, Bodie’s familiar weight ing of Bodie’s body and the gasp of shocked plea- pressing him down into the bed, time flowed over sure coming from him, his own words answer- Doyle, slowly, slower than the blood racing ing the frightening desire that was erupting in through his veins, slower than the churn of ex- Bodie. “Lucky, that, cos it’s what I want an’ all. citement in his belly, slower than the pulse of Want you, Bodie, want you screaming under me. Bodie’s cock. It was one of those moments that Want to fuck you, an’ I’m going to.” Fingers closed defy the rationality of the conscious mind, as on nipple, pulling, tenting Bodie’s flesh. “Hard. impossible to explain as why one loves this per- An’ often, as often as I feel like it. All I have to do son and not that. From deep within, where the is snap my fingers, isn’t it, Bodie? Cos you’ll be mind never rests, knowledge flowed, giving him getting it exactly how you want it, too.”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 PANORAMIC VIEW £3£3£3 Edi N. Burgh £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 The look in Bodie’s eyes sent power thrilling words inside, Doyle’s fingers following them. Wet through him, awakening all the impulses once as a sucked cock, the fingers explored his face, wreathed into fantasy, settling the responsibili- closing Bodie’s eyes with their touch, closing ties evenly upon his shoulders, imagining Bodie Bodie’s senses to everything but the sound and belonging to him and liking the picture im- feel of Doyle mastering him with such ruthless mensely, a stained-glass window in his soul. tenderness. “Don’t want you to say anything, “Yeh,” he said, not needing to whisper, wanting don’t want you to think. Just feel, Bodie, feel it all out where they could see it, no shame and what it’s like to have someone else in control.” no reluctance, “that’s what we want, you and Face glistening, mouth gaping, hunger writ- me. Two sides of the one coin, eh, Bodie?” ten large upon him, Bodie lay under Doyle, com- He took Bodie’s hands, wrapped them around pletely inert, responding with languorous pre- Bodie’s cock, started them moving the way he ciseness wherever Doyle moved him. And Doyle liked to see Bodie do himself, shoving Bodie then watched him, experiencing not only his own until he was supine, Doyle enthroned over him, body, but every sensation in Bodie, also. It was buttocks hot against the solid flatness of Bodie’s obviously such luxury for Bodie to give it all up, belly. “Go on, do yourself. Remember how we as he had before, but to do it in safety, with a started? You needing it that night we were on man he could trust. It was up to Doyle to prove obbo, stuck in the car, you squirming about as that he wasn’t going to take advantage, to show if you’d sat on a fucking tack. An’ me pretend- that he wasn’t laughing at him behind Bodie’s ing to fall asleep so’s you could have a wank closed eyes. and I could get to watch. Remember, Bodie?” Doyle stared at him in rapt fascination, so “Yeh.” Bodie’s hands were moving now, attuned to Bodie that it was as if he could hear smoothing foreskin back and forth, each time his thoughts, feel his pleasures, know his fears. able to cover ever less of the head, cock length- A hot mouth was on him, following in the path

£3£3£3 ening and hardening under his hands and blazed by the wet fingers, tongue dipping into 28 Doyle’s rapacious stare. “An’ the first time you his mouth far too briefly, the scantest of kisses. £3£3£3 let me see you do it, that night at HQ, waiting Then he was shivering, uncontrollably, as lim- for Cowley to come back. Was dead hot and you ber tongue caressed his ear and warm breath said you were going to have a shower.” set his nerves dancing and gambolling with de- “And I stripped for you. An’ you wanked your- light. The old addiction made his belly hollow with self silly while I was in the shower having a go. need, physical manifestation of an emotional Well, we’re going to do something new tonight, weakness he was too leery of confessing here in Bodie. I’m going to fuck you, whether you want the real life of London, far away from the Dali- me to or not. I’m going to take you and you’re esque melting of Africa. But the risks, letting going to belong to me. You’re going to kneel for someone in like this, letting someone see him me, Bodie, kneel for me and beg me to fuck you exactly as he was, no machismo beneath the hard.” surface bravado, just a little man wanting to be Bodie’s eyes were wide, pupils drowning out led and pampered and cared for—balance for the the sea of blue, gaze hanging onto Doyle for all cruelty and strength he was in his career. But he was worth. “Like Africa. Just like Africa all when it came to his emotions, not an atom of over again.” machismo remained, and that was what terri- “’Cept there won’t be anyone else but me.” fied him beyond endurance. Until The slap cracked around the room, echoing, the Doyle…perhaps. Unless Doyle… livid mark of Doyle’s command standing out The mouth was back, sucking on him, a fin- bright as the red hand of Ulster on Bodie’s white ger was pressing into his body, touching him in- belly. “D’you hear me, Bodie? Just you an’ me, side where no one had dared since he’d come I won’t have you buggering off with another back from Africa and that touch was demanding bloke. Unless I tell you to and unless I’m watch- response, demanding that he yield, that he offer ing.” that which Doyle considered to belong to him and Bodie opened his mouth to speak, but a hand him alone. No time, then, for philosophsizing, no covered him, shutting him up, banking the time for serious consideration, only feelings, only

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Edi N. Burgh £3£3£3 PANORAMIC VIEW £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 the moment, and to hell with the consequences. “Christ, Ray, don’t fucking stop. Don’t leave Let them be whatever they wanted to be, let me empty…” whatever would happen, happen. CI5 could go Fingers traced with cruel delicacy down take a flying fuck with the rest of the world, for Bodie’s inner thigh, promising, promising. “This all he cared. He had Doyle, and Doyle was at what you want? What we’ve been messing about the helm, steering them both, just like his fos- with the last couple of months?” tered dreams. Suddenly, the finger withdrew, “Shite, no. Want it hard. Want you to fuck then came back, bringing a friend with it and he me, Ray.” was wonderfully stretched, gloriously stretched “You want any Tom, Dick or Harry to fuck and he knew what was coming. He wriggled, try- you?” ing to tell Doyle, trying to express with his body “No, has to be you, mate. Has to be…Can’t what his mouth was too busy to say. Harder, he trust anyone else that much…” wanted to scream, harder! Make it… The fingers were pressing harder now, skim- “Harder!” Doyle grinned as Bodie shouted ming the sensitive line leading from tight-drawn it, perfect harmony with what he had seen on balls to lonely arse. “Why not, Bodie? Why can’t Bodie’s face. “Like it hard, do you?” He really you let anyone but me do this to you? What’s didn’t need to ask, but he couldn’t keep the this all about, mate, that you can’t even let some- words inside, needing to talk to Bodie. “That’s one else see you like this? Lots of blokes get good, cos that’s how I like it as well. None of fucked all the time.” this pussyfooting we’ve been fat-arsing around “But they…” with, eh, Bodie? Get on to the real thing now, The words dried up to desert, a sere wind can we, go at it like real men. Yeh, squirm when cutting between the two men, bed becoming I shove my fingers up you.” He scissored his battlefield. fingers, spreading them, opening Bodie up, “Tell me.” stretching him painfully wide. “Feel that? I’ve “No.” £3£3£3 got you spread so wide your arse looks like a “Tell me, Bodie.” 29 cunt, all pink and pretty. And waiting for me, “Can’t.” £3£3£3 isn’t it? It’s mine now, not yours, and I can do “Yes, you can. Tell me!” whatever the fuck I want to with it. Give it away, “Won’t.” keep it all for me, plug it up when I’m not in it A silence so deep, a dropped stone couldn’t to make sure you don’t forget who the boss is. cause a ripple. Doyle felt the strands beginning Pity we don’t have any tricks of the trade to unravel, felt Bodie retreat, shutting himself around here, though. You’ll have to do some- away, rebuilding the castlements that stopped thing about that, Bodie, if you want to keep the pair of them from ever getting beyond a re- me happy.” lationship of congenial fucking. He watched as Bodie’s hands were dragged away from his Bodie’s face stilled, expression fading like dusk cock, set to work on his nipples instead. Hun- into the featureless night of the city sky. And grily, Bodie obeyed him, keeping his eyes closed, the body grew still, too, arousal dimming, be- listening to his heart’s memory of Ray’s face. coming limp and flaccid, all the tension drained “Pull on your tits, mate. Too flat for my taste, I and strangled by fraught emotions. Fear mud- like something I can sink my teeth in.” Doyle died everything. For Bodie, not for Doyle. Doyle’s laughed, sultrily, sexily, at the arching of Bodie’s fear cast a harsh glare of clarity on what they body as the words registered in Bodie’s brain. had and how little that would become in a mat- Laughed again, as Bodie writhed, hands tug- ter of a few years. If he couldn’t force Bodie into ging at himself, arse pushing up to trap Doyle’s honesty, if he couldn’t bare the secrets and let fingers in deeper. the darker desires bond them long enough for Doyle pulled himself free, Bodie’s body slurp- them to really trust…then love would lie fallow, ing shut behind him. “Say it,” he whispered, a seed cast upon the proverbial stony ground. And satyr in the garden, leading the far from inno- he was having none of that. cent farther astray. “Tell me what you want. Beg Roughly, angrily, he tipped Bodie over onto me, Bodie.” his belly, positioning him in the humiliating

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 PANORAMIC VIEW £3£3£3 Edi N. Burgh £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 posture of a boy, not a man. Over his knees, overflowing with lifeseed, both a multiplicity of he wanted him, and he pulled and hauled un- pleasured nerves. til Bodie landed across him, Bodie’s cock But he didn’t want to come like this, joined trapped between Doyle’s thighs, his own cock only by skin on skin and sweet hardness on digging into the vulnerability of Bodie’s belly. muscle. He wanted to be in Bodie, wanted to be Blue eyes glowered up at him with the cutting part of him, take him, own him, win him to have edge of sapphire, but Doyle grabbed hold of and to hold forever… Wanted to feel the butter- silken black hair and shoved, forcing Bodie to soft flesh melt before him, letting the hardness face forward into the icefloe of the bedding. It of his cock cut through it, parting Bodie, split- was an incredible feeling, being so much in ting him in half with only Doyle able to put him command, feeling so much the man, with his back together again, Bodie useless without him, bigger and heavier partner ensnared. He raised Bodie needing him forever, a place where Bodie his hand, pausing, holding it on high, waiting, could finally belong and put an end to the gypsy waiting, spinning the moment out until it was wanderings that had begun their scarring tat- as fine and brittle as decorative sugar and then toos long ago when he was only a frightened, what his subconscious had been waiting for— underfed child. happened. Roughly, he shoved Bodie off, grinning in fe- “For fuck’s sake, Ray, do it!” ral sympathy as Bodie plunged against the An explosion in his chest, a great upwelling sheets, rubbing so hard, so terribly hard that it of feeling: love, tenderness, dominance, a huge had to hurt beautifully. One hand on the arse knot of cherishing desire at this eruption of need over which he claimed dominion, Doyle from Bodie. It was what he had wanted, what scrabbled about in the bedside cabinet, grab- they had both needed, acknowledgement of the bing the tube that had only ever been used to unique layer that Bodie and he could share to make himself slippery and accommodating for

£3£3£3 make them both whole, and one, forging them Bodie. Now, he was going to make it serve as it 30 together on this particular anvil. Doyle brought would serve best this night: he’d use it to mark £3£3£3 his hand down, a stinging pain shooting up his Bodie’s submission to him, physical and emo- arm as the pleasure from it shot through Bodie, tional. Shaking fingers fumbled the cap, but flashflooding all the way to Bodie’s cock, spring- then the crystal-clear gel was dripping onto his ing there, rising, between not Bodie’s legs, but fingers like a cascade of diamonds, all bright Doyle’s, where Ray held Bodie’s manhood in the and shining, drawing his eyes to the glitter, the ultimate trust. With every cracking slap of his shine of it tantalising, making him starve for hand, rose-red bloomed on Bodie’s white arse the aching pleasure of seeing Bodie’s flesh glim- and the rose-red delight of arousal bloomed mer so, ready for him. Wet for him, open for between Doyle’s legs, the hard fact of Bodie’s him, as hungry for him as he was for Bodie. willing submission. Bodie was suddenly very still as the trem- The light dappled on them as if they were bling hands touched him, was utterly motion- painted by Renoir, but the only art Doyle cared less as he felt the slickness smoothed onto his for was the exquisite stroke of his hand, paint- skin, covering his buttocks with a sheen of light, ing red pleasure on Bodie’s arse, painting the massaging him with proprietorial strength, fin- most sensuous impressions of ecstasy through gers tracing the outline of the spanking that lin- every vein of his body. Doyle was so alive, it was gered there. Then the fingers were rimming him, dizzying. Every corpuscle was awake and feel- dipping into him, forcing him to open his heart ing pleasure, his nipples tingling as though a even as he opened his body. wet, wet mouth was sucking them, his cock tight “Oh, Christ, Ray,” he muttered, everything and hot, pressing into Bodie as he could feel but the names of deities fled from his mind, “oh, Bodie pressing into him. It was almost as if he God…” had two cocks, his own, with its familiar, tight- The abject desperation in that voice steadied coiled pleasure, and Bodie’s clenched between Doyle’s hands, suffusing him with a profound his thighs where his own usually snaked. Two confidence. “Like that, do you?” he whispered, cocks, both hard and haughty, both filled to kneeling over until his breath disturbed the

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Edi N. Burgh £3£3£3 PANORAMIC VIEW £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 hairs on Bodie’s nape. “More where that comes The cum was rising in him, filling his belly, plun- from, mate. Got a lovely big prick waiting for dering through him, stealing all awareness from you, and you’re going to take it, aren’t you? I’m him until all that remained was the pleasure, going to fuck you, I’m going to own you and you flooding him, flooding from him, a damburst. wouldn’t have it any other way, would you? All The cum shot free of him, into Bodie to chain you want is me, in you, isn’t it, Bodie? Nothing him to Doyle, the liquid life reaching all the way but you and me, me up you, you under me, flat up to kiss his heart. on your belly.” And then it was over, the cataclysm, replaced He spread Bodie’s legs, reaching between to by the lingering warmth, emotions running to- grab hold of Bodie’s cock to pull it down where gether even as his cum seeped from Bodie’s body he could see it, a painful purple, weeping from to mingle together with Bodie’s cum where it frustration. The balls were small, tight ovals, lay, pooled, upon the bed. For a long time, the drawn so high he could barely see them in the two men lay tangled together, with lazy kisses shadow cast by Bodie’s body, quivering with lavishing benedictions upon the pallid beauty every pant of breathless excitement Bodie took. of Bodie’s neck and even lazier wriggles and Doyle loomed over him, loving the hoarse ob- squeezes holding Doyle within, where Bodie scenities guttering from Bodie, pressing forward, needed him. Where neither of them could envi- downward, the head of his cock shoving into sion him never again being… the mouth of Bodie’s arse, the tight ring of Words had never been their strong point, dis- muscle biting down on him, sucking at him, and cussion reserved for matters pertaining to the then Bodie was pushing out, relaxing, just a job and nothing else. It just wasn’t the their way fraction, enough to make the entry possible, to talk about feelings and longings and hopes, abruptly tightening, enough to make it hurt. not for two men of their age and background. Ruthless with love, Doyle responded, ram- So they left it all unsaid by the mere paucity of ming home, thrusting in with one long, viperish words, and allowed the moment to cement £3£3£3 strike, plunging into the heated darkness. He around them. Eventually, Doyle slipped free of 31 heard himself shout, heard Bodie echo him, felt Bodie’s reluctant body, both of them moving with £3£3£3 Bodie shudder as the sheer enormity of being languid ease until they were comfortably cradled fucked overwhelmed him, making him come, and cradling, hands moving in slowly restless orgasm blinding through him, whole body shud- caresses, all unwilling to let the feelings go. No dering, arse clenching and milking Doyle. words, perhaps, but then, words would have Doyle held very still, biting his lower lip only scuttled the communication. bloody, frantically holding onto his control by He wondered if Robin Day would appreciate sheer force, waiting until the racking tremors him writing to thank him and the rest of the had ceased and Bodie was once more still be- Panorama team for giving him that first insight, neath him. Then, and only then, did he begin to the edge he had used to wedge open Bodie’s move, fucking Bodie hard, his body shouting barriers. his message that Bodie was his, to be done with He touched, briefly, the tender spot where as Doyle pleased. Harder he thrust, spine al- his body had been joined to Bodie, where their most cracking with the strength of it, muscles union had had its physical manifestation. A good rippling and bunching in the dance of passion. beginning, something they could build on, for There was nothing in the world except himself there was no foundation stronger than love and and Bodie under him, Bodie yielding, Bodie giv- that was what they had each one of them un- ing him his pleasure, Bodie giving him his power. leashed tonight.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW L. A. SCOTIAN

HE LEANED HEAVILY ON THE DOORBELL, old habit of thought, Bodie fingered the sharp-edged frag- and older training making him automatically ment, turning yesterday’s events over and over scan the street, checking out every bit of move- in his mind as he turned the metal fragment ment, even if it were only the unthreatening sight over and over in his hands. “You wouldn’t hap- of an Old Age Pensioner raising her brolly to pen to have any of your mum’s angel cakes in, castigate the mannerlessness of youth today. would you?” The bell was still buzzing like a bee in a bottle, “Oh-ho, should have known there was a rea- with not a sign of life from inside, which was son you were turning down a drink. Well, you’re irritating to say the least. His breath was plum- out of luck, Bodie. But,” at the look of comical ing in the cold air, his feet were getting numb disappointment that was hurriedly plastered all and his neck was decidedly soggy from the rain over Bodie’s face, “she did pop over earlier this dripping off the lintel. Ever the personification morning and left me one of her jam rolls.” With of patience, he kicked the door. The cat, nestled his trademark quietness, Murphy took the warm and broody on the inside window-sill, twisted memory from Bodie’s hands, dropping opened one vituperative eye at him, then huffed it behind the polished wood of his grandparent’s back to sleep. So he hammered on the door with wedding photo. He didn’t mention the metal, nor closed fist. Even the cat ignored him for that. A the trouble that was crowding into Bodie’s eyes, quick look around to protect his dignity—and but kept on, breezy as the weather outside, to make sure none of the nosey-parker though with none of the sting. “She said if she’d

£3£3£3 neighbours had reported this violent loony to known you were coming over, she’d have brought 32 the local cop shop—and finding himself alone, a dozen, but you’ll have to make do with that. £3£3£3 he bent down, like a child missing his mummy, And,” he said, nudging Bodie over to the sofa, and shouted through the letterbox. Perhaps pointing at the high-piled plates lading the cof- ‘shout’ isn’t quite the right word. Perhaps ‘bel- fee table amidst the litter of the Saturday pa- low’ would be closer to the truth. pers and Radio Times, “gingerbread and scones “All right, all right, I’m coming!” finally came and sausage rolls.” back at him, muffled by door and weather, the “Sausage rolls from your dad’s shop? Christ, wind kicking up and right through Bodie’s I wish my dad had been a butcher.” clothes. “I always said you were a bit wet, Bodie,” “You wouldn’t be saying that if your first Sat- Murphy said, opening the door to the dripping, urday job had been helping your dad clean the scowling man, “but this is ridiculous. Come in, carcases out for hanging. Anyway, I used to lie and mind where you drip. Stain this carpet and awake at night, wishing my dad had been in Cowley’ll dock my pay.” the Navy—’a life on the ocean wave’.” “It’ll be your own bloody fault. When were “More like escape from Alcatraz in my house, you planning to answer the door—Doomsday?” Murph.” “Sorry, but nature calls and I was busy an- Murphy forbore to comment, knowing from swering that instead. Here, get your wet things past experience that Bodie would tell him what off and plant yourself on the sofa. Fancy a he felt like telling, when he felt it. Only Ray Doyle cuppa—or something a bit more medicinal?” had the right to push him, to drag blood from a “Tea—I’ll have a proper drink, after.” He shed stone and make Bodie talk. Name, rank and his wet jacket, kicked off shoes and peeled off serial number was all anyone else got, but socks as if he were in his own home. Something Murphy had seen Ray make Bodie spill his guts on the mantelpiece caught his eye: a piece of with nothing more than a particular look. And shrapnel, obviously tucked quietly in a pocket sometimes, sometimes he envied that intimacy, before Jack from Forensics had arrived yester- wished that he had such a vast pool of com- day. Lightly, his face dark with the recurrence plete trust at his disposal. Then he would shrug,

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 L. A. Scotian £3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 and remind himself of the futility of crying over in him. Restlessness consumed him, until he spilt milk and settle down to count his bless- was pacing around and around the room, fin- ings. gers rapping the back of the sofa, the sideboard, “Who d’you fancy for the game this afternoon, the hi-fi, always moving, moving, words pour- then?” Bodie was asking him, clearly demarking ing from him unchecked and uncensored. “And the lines of conversation for the day, and Murphy you should’ve seen the hard-on he got, Murphy. slid with ease into the pleasantry of chat, lean- He was huge as well, judging from the way his ing back against the cushions, enjoying watch- trousers were sticking out, and he was all-go ing Bodie, enjoying listening to his piquant wit— like that because he thought I was going to kill counting his blessings, ignoring the debits. him. Honestly believed I was going to shoot his “…top of the league this season, not with- brains out. Kept on pleading with me, begging out—Bodie?” me and begging me, promising me everything “Hmm?” under the sun if I wouldn’t kill him.” “Are you listening to me, or are you too busy He paused then, back at the window, peer- having fun dissecting that poor biscuit?” ing out to examine the day, Murphy sitting si- “What? Oh, sorry. Was miles away…” lently patient on the settee, hearing him out with “In Wapping, by any chance?” neither question nor judgement. “He’d’ve sold A sharpness of movement, and Bodie was on his granny for me, if I’d told him to.” Then he his feet, stalking behind the couch, staring out was moving again, more measured prowling, the window, twitching the net curtain back. The each step a deliberately controlled fusion of fight cat glared at him and he stroked it, his mind with flight. “You’ve known me long enough to elsewhere. His touch matched his thoughts, and know what that did to me, Murphy. I couldn’t the roughness made the cat hiss and swat at get enough of it. Kept on digging the gun in a him, arching to escape the heavy hand on its bit harder so he’d squirm more. And you back. should’ve heard him squeal when I twisted £3£3£3 “Yesterday really got to you, didn’t it?” round behind him and let him feel my prick. He 33 Murphy said, still lounging on the sofa, used to hadn’t expected that. I mean, it was obvious then £3£3£3 Bodie, used to his moods and the paths he took that he’d got hard just cos he was that scared. I to peace. was scared and all, but I wanted him, Murph. A convulsive swallow, the tense hunching of Wanted to fuck him hard right there, in front of shoulders. “And I suppose it didn’t get to you? everyone, just to show them who’s boss. And Not Ice-Man Murphy—” he’d’ve let me. Even though he was near enough “Don’t start, Bodie. You didn’t come here for shitting himself, he’d’ve let me.” a fight.” Murphy sat quiet as a priest, listening to The shoulders sagged, Bodie leaning against Bodie’s confession, waiting until the spate had the wall beside the window, the streaming grey abated. They’d been through this before, he and of rain reflecting on his face. “No, don’t suppose Bodie, had suffered through the maze of emo- that’s what I ever come here for. But it really got tions, hammering at it time and again until they to me, yesterday. Standing there, holding that had found the only two paths out. He picked bloke with my gun at his head, willing those cat hair off his trousers, giving a single thought bastards inside to let that family go, knowing of joy to the day his sister came back from her they could toss a grenade or a dead kid at me holidays and took the animal back. But it was any time they felt like it… His nickname was only a small thought, a pebble of calm in the Wombat, did you know that? He said they called ripples that were being cast by Bodie’s endless him that because he was always bouncing movements around the sitting room. around, full of energy. He was trembling, Murph, In front of the mantelpiece, Bodie stopped as shaking like a leaf, because I had him. I had if rooted, reaching behind the photo to pick up him and I was pressing my gun into his head— the sharp metal that Murphy had already tried left a big red mark on him, right here…” He to take from him. “D’you know, when it all went tapped his forefinger to his temple, becoming wrong yesterday, the first thing I thought was very still as the reliving of the day before grew what a rotten fucking shame it was that I had

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW £3£3£3 L. A. Scotian £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 to let the Wombat go? That was it, Murphy. his voice honeyed, sweet and bitter as dark Didn’t care about the wife and kids inside—not chocolate, the liquid path to his inner truths, at first. Didn’t care about all the innocent by- leading Murphy in, using what was to be to illu- standers. Wasn’t until those pricks lobbed that minate the darkness within, “I need what you bloody grenade at us that I even started to think give me. Listen, Murph, I dreamt last night that about it again.” I was back at the siege, except I wasn’t me, I The picture of calm, Murphy waited tensely, was shotgun Tommy. Ray was standing in front knowing that this was the moment of truth. of me, right in front of me, closer than you are Something was coming, as obvious as clouds now, and he was telling me I had to stop, I harbouring rain. So he waited, looking like his couldn’t kill these people, I couldn’t make them usual placid, phlegmatic self, while his heart do what I wanted them to. He was saying over raced and the breath caught in the back of his and over again, don’t make me kill you, Bodie, throat and the blood pounded in his ears. don’t make me kill you. He had these tears roll- “I tried to fuck Ray last night.” ing down his face, big fat tears, but he didn’t Murphy didn’t say anything, knowing per- sound upset, just sounded so sad. He kept on fectly well that Bodie was only half-speaking to telling me, too, that he was sorry he hadn’t been him, most of the words directed inwards, to ex- enough for me, apologising for not liking some plain. To excuse… “He didn’t want to, not the of the stuff I do. You should’ve seen his face, way I was after. So I grabbed him. Got a half- when he was standing there, holding his gun Nelson on him, started choking him, talking to on me and wondering if it was his fault I’d got him the way I had that poor sod yesterday af- hooked on the violence cos he wouldn’t let me ternoon. Wanted Ray on his knees to me, lick- do what I need to do elsewhere.” The spate of ing my boots…” speech had run out, trickling to a halt as the The breath exploded from Murphy, a great nightmare had. He straightened, blinked, once,

£3£3£3 surge of arousal and elation. So that was how it slowly, as if to clear his mind not his sight. “I 34 was to be! God, and it was what he wanted most can’t give it up, not even for him and he knows £3£3£3 himself, what he needed most himself to cope if I don’t get it from you, I’ll end up lying to him with yesterday, to stuff all the aggression and and going to one of the clubs and doing it with a war in himself back into the part of his life where stranger. And that’s what scares him. It’s never it belonged. He felt his own taut-string tension going to go beyond where it is with you and me, ease, the pose of relaxation becoming more a but… I could lose myself in it if I start going out reality. Apart, of course, from the slow build to and doing it again, the way I used to.” the sweet tension of sex. It was going to be good, Murphy’s own voice was seduction itself, rich today. It always was, when Bodie was this wound and mellow, fire flickering. “Need it, do you? After up and he himself was this afired. you got a taste of some of it yesterday, you’re “I really pushed him, so you know our Ray. craving the other, aren’t you? Can’t get it out of Kneed me in the balls and told me to go to you your mind, how it feels?” and not come back until I’d got myself sorted “Can’t keep it where it belongs any more, out again.” Murphy. It’s getting out of hand again.” Murphy stretched, making the cat twitch with “So you need me,” he whispered, so that Bodie envy. “So Ray sent you to me, did he now?” he had to lean forward to catch every nuance that said, voice so level and smooth, while his stom- was sliding in to colour what he was saying. ach fluttered and his groin tightened, his own “You need me,” he said again, so that Bodie took darkness rising silken heavy to have its hour in a step forward, both men staring at each other, the light. “And what do you expect me to do barely blinking, never losing focus. Then, the that he can’t?” final time for their ritual to be fulfilled—”you Bodie was looking at him now, straight on, need me.” no excuses, no lies, no evasions. “You know Ray. “Yes…” sibilant, low, empty-belly hollow, Doesn’t like any of this kind of stuff, doesn’t Bodie answered him. understand it unless it’s someone else and then Very much at ease now, Murphy unfolded he can say live and let live. But I need to…” and himself from the sofa, stretching again, turning

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 L. A. Scotian £3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 away, not needing to look to see the hunger ing out for what Bodie had been forbidden to booming in Bodie’s eyes. He closed the curtains, do. It was a pleasure for Murphy, and for Bodie, without hurry, switched on the standard lamp too, this knowing what was and was not per- so that there was light to see by, but without mitted: they had done this for what seemed an the harshness of brightness. Still without look- age of their souls and now, everything followed ing at Bodie, ostentatious in his calm, he re- one of the two paths they had cleared, with only turned to the sofa, shoving the coffee table par- the details altered. For a time, Murphy contem- tially aside, settling himself as comfortably as a plated Bodie—the way the light shivered on child waiting to hear a favoured story. muscle every time Bodie breathed, the way the But when he spoke, this was no once-upon- hair under his arm peeked out as coy as a a-time. maiden, the way the bent head left his nape “Strip,” is what he said. unprotected, the way his cock was slowly arch- Bodie sighed: it was begun. Already, he could ing up to kiss his belly, without having so much feel some of the demon aggression slither from as been touched. The small sound of Murphy his shoulders, the burden easing. It mattered crossing his legs was loud in the room and Bodie not one whit whether it was the job that made quivered from even so minute a stimulation. him so addicted to power and its abuses, or if it That made Murphy smile. He recrossed his legs, were that quality already in him that made him putting his feet up on the coffee table, shoving so perfect for the job. All that mattered to him a cushion behind his head, smile broadening right now was the steeliness of Murphy’s eyes with every tiny noise that made Bodie’s body and the hardness of his cock. leap with the reined-in need to touch. He “Yes…” he said again, this time exultant, voice checked his watch, let his hand come to rest not yet begun the journey his mind had already comfortably on his groin, stroked himself, then begun, back to the luxury of submission, where watched Bodie strain to hear, for Bodie was his punishment was in exquisite counterbalance to now and not allowed to look, not without ex- £3£3£3 the lure of power. He loved doing this, and had press permission. And he wasn’t about to give 35 done it many, many times before he had ever that, not yet. Not quite yet… £3£3£3 heard of CI5. It was only now, as the years grew For a hundred beats of his heart, all Bodie in number, that he had found that this one as- could hear was his own blood pulse and the pect of his life made it possible for him to keep faint shh, shh of Murphy’s hand on cloth. His the rest of his life in some semblance of order. neck was aching from resisting the temptation He had known, on his way over here today, in a to raise his head and look—just sneak the tini- car with condensation crying down the windows, est of peeks—to find out if Murphy were doing that he would submit. It was yin and yang, all what he thought Murphy was doing. He could over again. With deliberate pleasure, he stripped picture those hands rubbing on the rising hard- himself naked, until he was bare and exposed ness of prick, a sight he’d seen many times—a for Murphy to see. sight he’d demanded many times, when the path “You’re giving me a pain in my neck, Bodie,” they’d needed was for him to be the one who softly spoken, but with a thrilling bit of iron to held the power and the sceptre. He licked his them. lips, hoping that the insurgence was small Bodie knelt, relishing his rôle in this most enough to escape real punishment, which for serious game of theirs, playing his part with him was the denial of Murphy’s control, but a gusto, lowering his eyes, eyelids veiling the gleam large enough rebellion to elicit the sharp sting of intense pleasure. The carpet was digging at of hand on his face. him, hundreds of tiny claws, nylon pile to irri- There was only silence. tate with small hurts and the draught was sleek- A ream of his heartbeats, and then his pun- ing around the edge of the curtains to tickle ishment was commuted. There was a sound, along his ribs and the rounded sheen of flank. solitary, sibilant, lasting forever: the throaty rasp Murphy remained seated, letting the moment of a zip being undone. He could hear, then, the stretch, watching as anticipation made Bodie’s sounds of hand seeking flesh, then of skin on cock stretch also, as if the blind head was reach- skin. A moist sound, and with reflexive jealousy,

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW £3£3£3 L. A. Scotian £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Bodie swallowed: that wetness had been Murphy Bodie, turning him into nothing more than a spitting, to whet his hand and thus, his cock. It creature to be commanded for his sexual whims. would be wet now and if Bodie closed his eyes, With that thought, his cock pulsed, the slit drip- he could see it in his mind, all aglister like rain ping a drop of pre-cum, the translucent pearl on glass. His mouth was watering, his libido hanging there for Bodie to lap up. drooling, and all he could do was wait. And wait. The first touch of tongue on his cock head Then, finally— made him arch his back, letting his head loll “Into the bedroom.” The voice was hard now, back so that the muscles of his neck crunched and Bodie, of course, correlated it to the hard- with the sudden outflow of tension. It wasn’t ness that would be standing, prowlike, from just tongue on him now, but lips, then mouth, Murphy’s body. With a hunger that was abruptly the polished marble of teeth, the limber strength dizzying, he wanted that cock in him, slamming of tongue pressing at the nexus of nerves on into him, making him submit, taking all the the underside of his prick. He allowed himself power away from him. Deliver us from tempta- not so much as a whimper of satisfaction, with- tion, he thought, not in the slightest bit reli- holding that approval from his acolyte, although gious, God having died in his eyes many, many the mouth sucking him was perfect in its skill. years before, but rather, the sarcastic bite at He thrust forward into the wetness, fucking piety and at the multitudinous faiths that had Bodie’s face, opening his eyes to look down and been unable to offer him either shelter or an- see it: Bodie, on his knees before him, face swer. Most of them couldn’t even cope with his pressed into his groin, the rose of his cock be- questions, and he had turned on them with biting sucked into the tight-O of mouth. He thrust ter fatalism, brooding off in another direction to again, and felt the satisfying spasm of throat as find some answers there. Bodie gagged and saw the even more satisfying “I said,” one of his answers snapped at him, sight of Bodie closing his eyes in purest delight.

£3£3£3 “into the bedroom.” His hands were large and steady as they came 36 On his knees, head still lowered, he shuffled round to hold Bodie’s head in close, keeping him £3£3£3 forward, the carpet scraping his knees, sting- there, fucking him harder, again and again, ing at them like gravel path on grubby boy. deeper and deeper, taking him to the very edge “That’s too slow, my lovely, and I’m in a hurry of choking and only then, only when breath was today. On your feet. Let me see that pretty arse cut off, did he pull back. He grinned, feral and of yours.” brutish, feeding on this, revelling in the knowl- A frisson of pleasure and he was obeying, edge that Bodie couldn’t even breathe without consciously emphasising the roll and sway of his permission. muscle, harking back to his early days at sea Nostrils inundated with the languorous musk when first he’d learned how to go with the yaw of Murphy’s groin, Bodie let his throat and his and buck of life. In the bedroom he stopped, a will relax, letting go of the last vestiges of pride pool of absolute serenity as he waited to be told that made him his own master. He tried to fol- what to do. He didn’t even have to think, for low his new master’s dictates, swallowing as far that would be done for him, too, every last bur- as he could, opening up as much as he could, den removed from his shoulders. loving the feel of cock banging against the back “Suck me,” Murphy said, legs akimbo, a Co- of his throat as he gagged. Of a sudden, he felt lossus standing astride the gulf that separated the panic come into him, shaking his bones, the average person from those, like him, who his breath cut off by the bigness of the prick in had more…specialised tastes. The helplessness him, and he struggled, pushing back against he had been swamped by yesterday was being the hands… secreted from his pores as the power seeped in Which were implacable, holding him still, not through the soles of his feet. The heat in him allowing him to move. Black pubic hair was rus- was rising, charging him up, as he siphoned off tling against his face, skin was whispering the tyranny that was struggling to enthrone it- against his, and the hands wouldn’t let him go, self in Bodie. Very deliberately, relishing every the cock wouldn’t let him breathe. He fought it, second, he set about taking everything from his own hands coming up to shove against

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 L. A. Scotian £3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 denim-clad thighs. The hands on his head knot- sation of skin soft against his tongue. If he bowed ted in his hair, bringing a rain of pain to his his back, if he twisted a little, then the floor was eyes. Warning, then, reminder that this was for hard against his cock, rough pile scraping back real, this was no holds barred. the delicacy of foreskin. He couldn’t keep it in, “I told you to suck me,” filled his ears, com- had to let some of the pleasure out or he would mand tone, ringing out, drill-sergeant loud. surely burst. A groan bubbled up from him, “Yes, sir,” he mumbled more in his mind than getting louder, rising in pitch until it was al- aloud. He opened his mouth wider, closed his most words. Then his cock jolted with the sud- eyes tighter, searched blindly for that place in- den snapping influx of pleasure. side himself where the hunger to control was The sound was beyond what was permitted. banned. He struggled to breathe, to swallow, to Bodie knew he was supposed to be quiet until obey, sweat clouding his skin. And then, with- freed from the yoke of silence, so Murphy lifted out warning, he was there, without subterfuge, his hand and brought it down with a satisfying without self-deceit, without the vanity of pride crack, slapping Bodie full across the small of hiding behind his submission. He was at peace, his back. His handprint glowed on the alabas- and he was in Murphy’s hands, and Murphy ter skin and the sweetness of pain glowed on knew what he wanted him to do. He could take Bodie’s face. Murphy reached out, sliding his him in now, without effort, now that the last hand caressingly the length of knotted spine, vestige of resistance had fled, and he flowed with until his fingertips came to the rising warmth the movement of Murphy’s hands, allowing him- of where that same hand had landed. Yes, he self to be moved this way and that, allowing the whispered to himself, oh yes, this was what they movement of Murphy’s hands to control his both wanted… Bodie was squirming at his feet, ability to breathe. There were groans of plea- arching to get Murphy to touch the reddened sure trapped in his throat, waiting for his Mas- area again, licking frantically at him, begging ter to give him permission to show his enjoy- for attention. £3£3£3 ment and to pay his homage of arousal. “What do you want?” Murphy asked, not giv- 37 He was jerked away, left to kneel, swaying, a ing him a name. £3£3£3 leaf in the wind. Perfectly still, he awaited his “You, Master,” Bodie answered, not permit- Master’s pleasure. ted to use his name. “On your feet,” he heard again. “Strip me.” “Do you want me to fuck you?” Murphy stood pliant, neither hindering nor Another groan, then Bodie answered when helping as Bodie, with eyes downcast, carefully spoken to, as he was supposed to. “Yes, Master. denuded him, He indulged the smaller man, let- I want you to fuck me, hard.” ting him steal his little would-be secret caresses, “Why should I do something so nice to a cunt allowing him this small infringement of the rules. like you?” He could afford to be generous, knowing, as he Murphy didn’t give him a chance to speak, did, what was to come later. He put his hand on grabbing him by the hair, hauling him forward Bodie’s bent head, using that as his anchor while until Bodie’s mouth was open and sucking in each foot was lifted in turn, sock and shoe re- his cock again. Taller, with longer reach, Murphy moved, then lifted again as trousers and un- could still grab at Bodie’s arse, spanking him derpants were slipped from him. With Bodie hard, first the curved whiteness of the right, then doglike at his feet again, he sat himself down the left, again and again until all the white was on the edge of the bed, taking his time, for all gone and all that remained was the mark of his his cock was shouting at him to hurry. hands. All the while Bodie sucked him, slurp- One hand on the back of Bodie’s neck, and ing at him as if he had been a man lost in the he was on all fours, licking and kissing Murphy’s desert suddenly festooned with oasis. Murphy feet, doing to him what he had tried to—figura- smoothed his palms over the flesh that now tively, or literally, it mattered not here—to get belonged to him, bearing his sigil as it did, gentle Ray to do the night before, when he was hot in his possessiveness. And felt the scrape of from the near kill. He gave it all his attention, teeth, where no such liberty had been granted. rejoicing in the yielding of power and in the sen- He raised both hands and brought them down

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW £3£3£3 L. A. Scotian £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 with a resounding smack, the shock of it cours- Bodie had nothing in him that could express ing through Bodie, out of his mouth and back what it felt like, so he kept silent, obedient, while into Murphy. Who recognised the shiver of spine his Master rose with self-contained grace and for what it portended. then lowered himself, with that same elegance “I haven’t told you you can come yet,” he said, that denied the heated rutting of what they were voice deceptively soft. doing, to crouch beside Bodie. Not kneeling, Bodie went very still, holding his body abso- Bodie noted with relief; his Master wouldn’t lutely quiet, fighting desperately not to come, to kneel at times like these when they were taking let the sensation ease back, to give control back this path to returning the addiction to despo- over to Murphy, to let Murphy make the deci- tism back to the small corner where it would sion, take the responsibility… He even stopped reside, seething and snarling, but obstreper- sucking, suffered to draw his head back from ously quiescent. His mouth sagged open in em- the cock pulsing against his tongue. Great gulp- pathy with his Master’s, joining them intangi- ing breaths, eyes closed, not looking at the hand- bly, as if he were doing this to his Master as his some body in front of him, and it still wasn’t Master did to him. Do unto others, indeed. “Oh, enough to completely rescind the threat of orgasm. god,” he said, invoking no deity, only singing “Stand up.” praise to this man who was cascading pleasure He stood, grateful for not having to think. A through him, “oh, god…” hand on his cock, and he grinned, thinking that The words were caress in and of themselves, his mouth must have pleased his Master that adding to his delight, making the act worthwhile he was going to be allowed to come more than regardless of its own intrinsic appeal. Murphy once this night. But the hand on him did not rasped his cheek along the distended silken caress, did not offer surcease. It tightened on skin, his fist still clenched around the fragility him, tightened and tightened, the vice squeez- of balls. He took particular care with the head

£3£3£3 ing droplets out of his enpurpling cock, pain of the prick, using his teeth—with just the right 38 radiating out. He could feel every individual fin- amount of dangerous pleasure—to peel the fore- £3£3£3 ger, the pinkie ring, the callus of the trigger fin- skin back, smiling to himself as the crested glans ger. Could feel, also, the pain making his body conspired with him to hold the whispering skin once more subservient to his Master’s will, thus back in its place. The small slit was exposed pushing away his own insidious lust for tyranny now, and despite all the conventions to the op- over others. His scrote was stretched and tugged posite, it was this that was the most carefully down away from his body. It wanted to pull up guarded part of the male body. The arse, now, tight and cosy, but was dragged away, hard and that was easy enough to gain, he thought, for hurting. He gasped when his balls were twisted, as he well knew, once the initial fear of penetra- up and over until they were pressed into the tion was overcome, there was satisfaction and firmness of his abdomen, the heel of his master’s completion and the undeniable ecstasy that hand digging into the upper side of his cock. being fucked brought. After all, as he had ar- The pain was climbing, an Everest of sensation, gued to more than one nervous novitiate, if they until it was all he knew in the world. weren’t meant to fuck, why was the prostate And he thought he would die from it, it felt stuck right there, where the only way to get at it so good. was to fuck with cock or fingers—or toys, but Murphy was controlling Bodie with ease, but he was always slow to mention those to the skit- he was struggling to control himself. His cock tish. But this pert little slit, so small, in such was insisting on being heard, weeping and wail- common and frequent use, exposed so casually ing that it wanted to be buried in flesh. And he in public toilets, this was the one part that was couldn’t keep his eyes off the flesh in front of truly guarded. Atavistic fear ruled a man’s cock, him. But another minute, or two, make it last, his animal instinctive fear of being unmanned, prolong it, prove that he was in complete com- of being made less. It was always, to Murphy, mand of every fragment of this situation, and of the ultimate test of trust, this vulnerability of his life. Excise the gut-churning helplessness exposed prick. He blew, very gently, on the of the day before with this perfect omnipotence. purple-pink head, contemplating it, consider-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 L. A. Scotian £3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ing what it meant to another man, taking his knees like a dog or on his back like a slave. The decision with care. Yes. Again, it was yes. He’d images crowded his mind and his body, until do it today, although this was not something he was hard-pressed to remain still and silent, they did often and it was not something that the only thing keeping him properly subdued Bodie liked. But it was something he himself the dread of his Master’s punishment. He needed and Bodie was his to do with completely couldn’t bear it if He were to deny him now, if as he willed. Slowly, he lapped the hot flesh, He were to make him sit, gagged and unfulfilled, aware with peripheral acuity of the rippling plea- while his Master jerked off in front of him, spill- sure marbling Bodie’s belly. Then, equally ing all his manhood, keeping it from Bodie, re- slowly, he brought the tip of his tongue to that jecting Bodie’s need for final submission. It was slit, and pressed against it, feeling the minus- only seconds, but his body and his need insisted cule parting of flesh. He pressed harder, at this that it was hours before his Master had chosen. most secret part of Bodie, then pursed his lips “On your back.” against it. A few drops of his saliva flowed from His cock was released, interrupted blood flow his mouth onto Bodie, so he withdrew to watch bludgeoning back to normal, suddenly cold as part of him seeped out over distended flesh where his Master no longer held him safe. With and to watch, bright-eyed, as a few cells of him- alacrity, he lay on his back, hooking his arms self were absorbed inside. He glanced up then, behind his knees, lifting himself up to lay his catching sight of the almost-horror on Bodie’s arsehole open to his Master’s vision. He face, understanding perfectly well that this was stretched a little more, contorting himself until on the razor’s edge for the other man and he he could reach his own arse and spread it wide, grinned, letting Bodie see it, reminding Bodie of so that his Master could see inside him, all the who was Master here. He knew, having seen that way inside him, to all his truths. A single finger, look in Bodie’s eyes, what was the next barrier sure, strong, shoving inside him, sliding on the to self-knowledge. In a few months, perhaps, suppositoried lubricant he had put in himself £3£3£3 when they had need to, when they had worked before getting in his car to come here. The in- 39 a little closer to it, it would be time to introduce trusion of real-time memory was jarring, shock- £3£3£3 some of the…refinements he had been reading ing him, reminding him beyond the pleasure, of about. But for now, there was the moment, and why he was here, like this, with Murphy loom- Bodie, both so taut he could almost hear sin- ing over him. Murphy, one of the few men he ews sing. could ever trust, the only man he could trust “On the bed,” he said, for his own sake, not with him. The only other empathetic soul who sparing an ounce of pity for Bodie who was al- shared this sunless need of his. The finger was most at the end of his tether, dragged there by pulled from him and a harsh smack stung the both arousal and the sting of fear that Murphy overly sensitive arsehole, a none-too-gentle re- had introduced. He knew that fear himself, that minder to keep his mind in the gutter and be anticipatory dreadfilled pleasure of the next new slave, not thinking man. They weren’t here to discipline. He toyed with the idea, while he ab- think, only feel, to stuff the visceral aggression sently toyed with Bodie’s cock and balls, tug- back into the unlit corners. ging nice and hard, but finally rejected it. It could “That’s better,” Murphy said, seeing the self- wait, and be all the better for it, once they had will fleeing Bodie’s body, “that’s much better. played all the little games of mind and flesh that I’ll forgive you, this time, but if you ever do that would bring them there as inexorably as time again, I shan’t fuck you after.” He slid two fin- brings death. gers in this time, without warning, scissoring Assiduously obedient, Bodie got himself onto them round the gland suspended inside. He the bed, careful not to disturb his Master’s grip pressed, twisted a fraction, and watched with on him, sly enough to move so that the pres- the fierce pleasure of possession, the jump and sure was increased until the agony became the leap of Bodie’s cock. He could control even that, sweetest of pleasures. He knelt on the bed, now, as he had controlled breath and dominated awaiting his Master’s voice, tingling with the will. A third finger, to stretch anxious flesh, then wonder of whether he would be taken on his a fourth. He thought, for a moment, about us-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 MURPHY’S LAW £3£3£3 L. A. Scotian £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ing his fist, but that wasn’t what he needed to- inside him erratic now, bespeaking what was day. No, today he needed to fuck Bodie, plunge about to happen. into him without mercy, let himself flow from There! Over him, canopying him, he felt the his body and into someone else. “On your sudden stillness of his Master’s straining body, knees.” and inside him he could feel the sudden con- Bodie obeyed him, clambering round quickly, vulsive movement of his Master’s cock, buck- presenting himself like a bitch on heat. “Oh, very ing, seed erupting to overflow within. And still pretty,” Murphy praised. “Pretty enough to be he could not come, and although his mind felt fucked. Is that what you want, bitch?” the orgasmic rush, his body still cleaved to his “Yes, sir,” Bodie said, all hoarseness and pas- Master’s will. sion. “Yes, please, sir, fuck me…” “All right,” breathless, but never weak, the There were hands grabbing him, hard fingers command was given. “Up on your knees, facing digging into him and then Bodie let out a scream me. Let me see you come.” of pleasure as a hard cock dug into him in a Asprawl on the bed, his cock limp with plea- different way, piercing flesh, routing him, rut- sure and wet with his own cum, Murphy lay ting him like an animal. He thrust back up- back and watched the incredible beauty of Bodie, wards, was rewarded with a painful smack on kneeling, hand blurring on his cock, face blur- his right cheek, so he thrust again, turning the ring with passion. other cheek, again gaining his reward. He was “Look at me,” he said, wanting to have that moaning now, careless, heedless of how he pleasure to devour for himself, “look at me.” sounded, existing only as a body being plun- Dark blue eyes opened, pupils wildly dilated, dered by his Master. Will-less, pliant, he was staring at him, the gyring pleasure spiralling moved, the invading cock huge and hot and into him from Bodie. He played with his own overbearing inside him. “I’m going to come,” he nipples, faint echoing sweetness, as Bodie’s fist

£3£3£3 whispered, hoping his Master wouldn’t hear, so pumped hard and fast until a loud groan burst 40 that he would be allowed to come with Him in- forth, in synchronicity with the first burst of £3£3£3 side. semen that landed, still inner-body hot, on “No, you’re not,” his Master told him, impla- Murphy’s belly. He dappled his fingers in it, lift- cable. “I haven’t given you permission, yet. Who ing the streamers to his mouth to taste, linger- owns you, bastard?” ing over it with lowered lids, appreciating the “You do, Master.” sight of Bodie coming down off his high. Arms “Who dictates your body?” open, he brought the smaller man into his em- “You do, Master.” brace, cradling him until the intensity of feeling “Then you’ll come when I tell you and not had passed. Satisfied, body and soul both sated, before.” he allowed them to drift off into sleep. He could feel the sharp jut of hips cutting into him and the frantic need of his body to When he woke from his quick sleep, he was come, but he knew he wouldn’t. After all, he alone, as usual. He got up from the Gordian couldn’t, his Master wouldn’t let him. At this knot mess of a bed, loping into the bathroom, moment, it never occurred to him to wonder at cleaning himself up, checking his arse for the his body’s obedience, for there was no reason unlikelihood of damage, wincing as he peed, the to wonder. All there was was his Master’s will slight abrasion of his cock a welcome reminder and that was not to be disputed. He drowned of the afternoon’s activities. He rubbed his hand, himself in sensation: the sting of hand on his roughly, over his cock, smiling at the memory arse, the club of flesh distending his own, the of what Murphy had done. It was all right, now peak of pleasure standing hard and arching at that they were finished, to fantasize about it in his groin. He could hear his Master, the pant- a small way. He wondered, briefly, if that kind ing breaths, the coarse words, the faintest sound of cock-play was what Murphy had in mind for when his Master’s teeth fastened on his shoul- them, then shrugged. He’d find that out, sooner der, giving him one more radiating home of plea- or later, depending on what the job and life threw sure. His hips were gripped now, the stroking at them. A quick shower, to wash off the sweat

“Ta much. Who’s winning?” their sex. Putting the spare sheets on, he was £3£3£3 “Who d’you think? And by a mile. I think the humming to himself. He was, he told himself, 41 bloody ref’s on their side. Look at that! How could content with their arrangement. It would, he £3£3£3 he say that was offside? That goal should’ve reminded himself, only spoil everything if they stood…” tried to make it an arrangement that was the Bodie took his drink up, reclining into a chair, central core of their life. Bodie, he reiterated, aware with every cell of his being just how ut- only needed this kind of thing sometimes, when terly at peace he was. In a half-hour it would be loving Ray and being loved by Ray wasn’t enough time to be on his way, else he’d be late for going to quiet the dragons of his soul. It really would to the pictures with Ray, but he still had time wreck it, he repeated to himself, all the while enough to wrangle with cheerful venality. “Goal? going round his house with outward placidity, It wouldn’t even have come close if your bloke clearing away every atom that could betray hadn’t been offside. That bunch play football Bodie’s presence here. like my granny—and she’s been dead ten years. “It’s for the best,” he said out loud, meaning it. Look at them, right bunch of wallies…” All the same, that night, he had to be drunk “What do you know? You can’t see beyond before he could get into that bed alone…

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 BRASS FARTHING These stories are both part of what we like to call Nanny’s Teddy Tales and Other Bedtime Stories, and well, there are teddies and there certainly are times in bed—but frankly, these stories aren’t meant for children. The Glaswegian and her editor share a not particularly favorable view on the topic of Bodie and Doyle and assorted stuffed animals. We would prefer to see either Bodie or Doyle—or both—stuffed, and that takes us back to the bedroom. Oh well, just remember that the Glaswegian’s mind is a bit twisted and perverted… NANNY’S TEDDY TALES AND OTHER BEDTIME STORIES: EXEUNT EMMA SCOT

HE SHUT THE DOOR VERY QUIETLY BEHIND HIM, not much strength bled from him for him to survive disturbing so much as the staleness of the air the trip to the hospital and the first cut of the

£3£3£3 with its weight of Doyle’s blood still hanging in surgeon’s knife. Four hours it had taken them, 42 it. The stain on the carpet was untouched since to tell him. Four hours when Cowley had started £3£3£3 the forensic men had taken their scrapings and him on the search to see who had shot Doyle, samplings and filled their little bags with the the old bastard knowing all the while that Doyle bits and pieces of Doyle’s life. He took the long hadn’t made it, would never know or care who way round the living room, stepping over shred- it was who had been behind the whole fucking ded brown paper and exploded milk, breathing mess. Ray. Gone, for good. Not just for a while through his mouth to try to keep the smell of because he’d flown off the handle and had soured milk and fetid blood out. walked out on Bodie again, not just for a while And all that did was to make him taste it, as because he simply needed time to be by himself. if he’d knelt down to where Doyle had fallen and Gone. placed his tongue there and let the loss seep Bodie stared at the Desiderata, hating it for into him. As it was seeping into his bones with its maudlin sentimentality which had no place the chill quiet of the flat. The coffee mug was in a world that could kill the way it had just still in the sink, the cupboard door still lying killed Doyle. He straightened up, going over to open the way the forensic team had left it, the the cupboard where he knew Doyle hid—had Desiderata still lying where Cowley had left it. hidden—his best booze, away from the gour- Unchanged, all of it, as if the past 32 hours had mand appetites of his partner. There was other never happened. As if time had stopped when stuff in the house that would do the trick just Doyle had been shot and then shipped off to as well, but it was in the cabinet in the living hospital. room, beside the stacks of records, surrounded As if Ray hadn’t died. by the books, and in the bottom drawer was the Bodie’s knuckles whitened, his fingers grip- old wooden case that still held Doyle’s oil paints, ping the lip of the sink, his teeth sinking into with the dried out tube of white and crumpled his own lower lip, drawing blood to bead, cadmium, and he couldn’t face such a tangible whereas the gun had drawn blood to pump, life presence yet. He had once threatened to use beating out of Doyle too fast, too much lost, too the linseed oil as lubricant, one wild and happy

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Emma Scot £3£3£3 EXEUNT £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Tuesday afternoon, the day he had discovered bedside cabinet cleared out, get rid of the tubes just how much Doyle wanted him, bouncing on and the toys and the magazines. They weren’t Bodie’s stomach to the strains of Handel… First the kinds of things a straight CI5 man would time they’d had sex, that afternoon, the first time keep within easy reach of his bed. And what if of so very many… And most of them in Doyle’s that was part of why Ray hadn’t fought, part of flat, wherever that had been at the time. So very why Ray had been so fucking careless as to leave rarely in Bodie’s house, both of them so much the locks unset? Tired of hiding, tired of the more comfortable in the places that Ray made constant pushing at Bodie to acknowledge them, home. tired of keeping up the façade of chasing He filled a tumbler with Laphroaig, Doyle’s women… own favourite whisky, the special bottle Bodie He shied away from the rest of his own had bought him that time they had to go up to thoughts and the nagging guilt they heralded. Islay and had rounded the work off with a quick Even clearing out the bedroom would be better holiday touring the distilleries. There was no than facing himself on this. But to get there, he burn as the peaty malt slid down, only a grow- had to cross the living room again, with its bla- ing glow filling his belly. He’d once told Ray he zon of death and stench of betrayal. Shoes shin- felt the heat all the way into his belly when Ray ing reflections of the scattered shopping, he came inside him… picked his way through the debris, avoiding His fist clenched, threatening to break the touching anything that bore the contamination glass the way his pain was threatening to break of death. He made sure that he was blind to the his control. With great deliberation, he put the brown stain, with its outline drawn in black, glass in the sink, wincing, hating that single the shape that Ray had left behind. A heavy sigh coffee mug that was sitting there. The ‘if onlies’ escaped him as he finally crossed the threshold and ‘what ifs’ were starting, gnawing at his bones into the bedroom. like rats. If only they hadn’t had that last argu- Which was no better. £3£3£3 ment. If only he hadn’t been pushing Doyle There was no smell of death here, just a faint 43 away, his own fear overruling his needs. He’d linger of after-shave and overalls, the odour of £3£3£3 thought Ray understood, had been sure of it… life, a ringing blow to the pit of his stomach, But what if he hadn’t? What if part of the rea- winding him. Nothing here out of the ordinary, son he’d—died—had been that the stupid bug- just the reminders of everything Doyle had been. ger hadn’t known how much Bodie loved him And what Bodie had lost. and hadn’t been fighting hard enough to live? Doyle. What if he’d been too tired of the fighting and The grief began then, filling and emptying him the struggling and the slogging to make their in enervating waves of discord. To have had as relationship work in spite of the scars Bodie much as they had, with all the tacit promises carried? yet unfilled, and to have lost it all—a single What if it had been Bodie who had killed him, stroke of the brush, a single blow and it was all simply by not being here? gone, just as Doyle had always said it would be. He took a deep breath, the life shuddering Ray had always said Bodie would be the death through him, and abandoned the kitchen. He’d of him, but always in the tone of a joke. Bodie told Cowley he’d clear Ray’s things out, go collapsed onto the edge of the bed, fists clench- through them, sort them all out, and he’d best ing the covers, eyes clenching shut over the start with the bedroom. If he was feeling like tears, holding them and the pain in. And wasn’t this just standing in the kitchen staring at a that the problem, wasn’t that why he was here, mate-less coffee cup, then Christ help him go- now, with Doyle already cold and dissolving into ing through the stuff in the bedroom. But that no more than memories? He’d held everything was what needed going through without other in, good bad and indifferent, shutting Ray out, hands being on it. He’d protected Doyle’s pri- making Ray shut him out in his turn. Keeping vacy from the forensics mob; it’d be stupid now them apart, despite all the intimacies of sex and to let strangers go through it just because he love. But a love he’d never let show, not really. couldn’t face the memories. He had to get the A love he’d always run from, even when he’d

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 EXEUNT £3£3£3 Emma Scot £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 made such a show of accepting it. He’d been sitting up at night, giving back the sight to his full of the bonhomie and the teasing titillation old teddy, torch propped up on the bedstand, of touching, but he’d still always been one for tongue tipping out the corner of his mouth, eyes the girls. Even when Ray had, in a sense, called squinting in concentration. Oh, yeh, he could his bluff by becoming involved with that Holly smile benevolently now, but that had been an woman, he’d still kept up the façade of camp- effective weapon in one of their arguments, a ing, hiding the truth in plain sight, so that no- great way to wound without exposing his own one would ever think the elaborate charade to vulnerable flank. be anything other than light-hearted fun of du- Bloody bear. Knew as much about it as he bious taste. did Doyle. It was still in his hand when he sat He wondered now if Ray had thought that himself back down on the bed, unconscious of was all there had been to it. Wondered if Ray the fact that he had climbed under the covers, had fallen prey to the games Bodie had made as if he were getting in beside Ray, careful not them play. Wondered if Ray had seen through too steal all the blankets, leaving enough space all of it to the fear that undermined everything. on the right hand side of the bed, beside the Their last days together came to mind, and he alarm clock… Pillows behind him, he sat and stopped wondering. stared at the bear where it rested in his hands. Ray had seen the truth all right, in all its Small, compared to the largeness of his hands, complexities and distorting convexities, and that small the way a child’s bear should be, smaller would explain his almost melancholy under- than ever, the bear growing smaller in compari- standing, his gentleness even as he began the son to the years that a man had kept it and slow untieing of the bonds that had held them carried it with him. Doyle’s one concession to together. Oh yeh, Ray had known… sentimentality, his one enduring symbol of Face bloodless, eyes sightless, his head full home, his one memento from the past that he

£3£3£3 of memories too heavy for him to carry, he faced would never yield, and Bodie held it in his hands, 44 the ceiling, only to turn away from that, too, draped with the black ribbons of bitter argu- £3£3£3 when his eyes focussed and made him see the ment. How he’d mocked Doyle for this bear, not familiar cracked-ice pattern in the plaster. He’d that Doyle had ever let that defeat him. The bear memorised that, without even realising he was had never been hidden, never put away, no seeing, in many a night spent under Ray, Ray matter how often Bodie had used it to laugh over him, Ray in him… when that would keep an argument flaring and Frantic for escape, his gaze darted round the any possibility of exposing his own weakness room, wounded animal hunting succour. But far, far behind a solid wall of obfuscation. So all he found was a softness with the power to that left him with a threadbare stuffed toy in wound ever more deeply. his hands and a mate under the dirt. That stupid fucking teddy bear, the bone of Not much to show for all their years together. many an argument, the point of many a barb, Not much to show for his own lifetime thus far. the one chink in Doyle’s armour that he had His knuckles were white again, where he was used with cruel accuracy. He got to his feet, crushing the teddy, the old, oft-mended seams slowly, terribly slowly, not knowing how leaden bulging. Small white gaps began appearing, grin- his limbs were, not knowing that he was mov- ning teeth to mock as he himself had mocked. ing like a man in the middle of Sartre’s worst He loosened the grip of his right hand, reaching nightmare. The teddy was rough in his hands, for his knife, bringing it out to where the light all the plushness of fur worn away by a lifetime could shine on it bright as sun on water, and as of comforting. Both eyes were in place, sewn on beautifully. Face set and blank, he turned the firmly, but they were different, one the amber bear around, slipping the tip of the knife into of a real teddy, the other a navy-blue button the back, up high, where the second bullet had stolen from school uniform for surreptitious taken Doyle. He was careful to get the position- surgery. Now that it was too late, he found the ing just right and satisfied, he turned the silent tolerance to smile at the image of toe-rag Doyle, accuser around, measuring where the heart too tough to be caught dead with a teddy bear, would be, if it had a heart.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Emma Scot £3£3£3 EXEUNT £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Like me, the words whispered around the row out, layered year upon year of childhood room, breathed by his lips, and he wasn’t sure with its tales of chivalry and Arthur, Robin Hood if he meant that the bear had a heart, like him, and the Battle of Britain, noble men atoning for or if he were heartless, like it. ignoble deeds. The decent thing to do… The No matter. The curved point of his blade gentleman’s way… would take care of that little detail. He cut, pre- The way out. cisely, the exact spot where the first bullet had Exeunt, he thought, with a smile all the bitten into Doyle, the wound that had eventu- smaller for its contained wildness. Not exit, but ally taken his life. exeunt, the way Shakespeare always did it, But no, it wasn’t that that had killed him, clearing the stage, wiping the slate clean to start was it? If Bodie had been there, or got there in again with the next scene, the next act, the next time, the doctors would have had time to fix him, play. A new cast of characters, a new plot, a put him back together again, like Humpty new beginning and middle and end. Dumpty. He’d taunted Doyle with that, too, Yes. nasty joking that it was only natural that a man The decent thing to do. who still had a teddy bear would like fairy tales, Yes. especially in his position. There was a grimace Yes. twisting his face as he twisted the knife, mak- The only way, the only way out, the only light ing the blade go all the way through, turning there could be at the end of the tunnel, now, the back of the bear into a collage of carnage, after what had happened… all the insides pushed out, to hang there, stuff- He took his gun out from his holster, where ing dripping like blood. Bodie leaned back into the muzzle had been digging into him, so com- the pillows, holding the bear up so that it in- mon a feeling that it no longer registered any truded between himself and his view of the ceil- more than the flex of muscle against bone reg- ing. Natural to do that, really. He’d used the istered when he walked. He held the gun, cradled £3£3£3 bear to get in all sorts of nasty digs at Doyle, it, turned it this way and that, appreciating the 45 and of course, the nastiest of all were after he’d glint and the gleam of it, this thing he’d carried £3£3£3 let Ray fuck him, flat on his back, under this with him as long as he’d been side by side with ceiling, under Doyle… Oh, yeh, he’d always Doyle. This gun had saved his life, and Ray’s, made Ray pay the piper for making him need more times than he could actually remember. someone the way he needed Ray. Perfect, then, that it should finally end that life. Made him pay, in blood, this time… Those who live by the sword… Muscles aching from lack of sleep and over- He put the muzzle into his mouth, tongue work, he stretched across to balance the bear circling it the way he had Ray, those few times on Doyle’s bedstand, just behind the alarm he’d sucked Ray. Eyes closed, he caressed the clock, on top of the book that Ray had left, open metal, slowly, with endless patience, until the and unfinished, facedown. metal was no longer chill against his lips, but Facedown. Ray had been facedown when as warm as he was, his body heat stolen away they’d found him, too much of his blood seeped from him by the inanimate, unfeeling metal. into the carpet, that rotten, fucking thick-pile Unfeeling, unthinking. carpeting that would never come clean, not with That’s what he wanted to be: as unfeeling and all that blood in it… unthinking as the gun and the machismo he’d There was a code, far older than Bodie, going lived his life by. back farther than he could trace his family, but He couldn’t get it out of his mind, the feeling it was the kind of thing that was bred into the and thinking of Doyle, in a grave, eaten by bones, down where the mind has no control, for worms and earwigs, his fingernails still grow- there is no thought involved, only the instinct. ing even as his body rotted. Unfair that Doyle And he knew the one thing that honour de- should end like that, clay back to clay, ashes to manded, the one thing he could do that would ashes… appease whatever mad force had forged the He wanted to be ashes, had always wanted world he lived in. Bred into him, from the mar- to be burned and then scattered, where the

creepy-crawlies couldn’t get him. But he’d settle HE SHUT THE DOOR VERY QUIETLY BEHIND HIM, dis- for burying. Only fair, since that was what he’d turbing not so much as the staleness of the air. done to Doyle. The stain on the carpet was untouched, the The gun was warm and round and phallic in chaos still scattered underfoot. Polished shoes his mouth, the trigger crooning to him, seduc- shining, he picked his way through the miser- tive voice of escape, enticing voice of oblivion. able debris, heading instinctively for the bed- The ultimate pain-killer. room. He knew, had perhaps known even be- His finger trembled, faintly, as it never had fore Bodie had walked out of his sight, that he before, not on the trigger of a gun. But this time, would find him here. there was a tremor there, as his eyelids flick- And how he would find him. ered, as the tears he had never in his life spilled His face falling older and more haggard as he flickered and threatened to fall. saw no more than he expected, Cowley turned A deep breath, and with it, the serenity of away to begin the processing of death all over knowing it would be his last. again. His fingers tightened. His body slumped. for Weed from Bill and Ben

£3£3£3 46 £3£3£3

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 NANNY’S TEDDY TALES AND OTHER BEDTIME STORIES: AN ABARENT ABEARATION GAEL X. ILE

“OH, COME ON, DOYLE, SHOW ME!” few wits Christmas shopping had left her. “Just “I’ve already told you, Bodie, you don’t have look? Just look? After what happened with me a snowball’s of seeing my teddy, so just give it a bike, you expect me to believe you’ll ‘just look’? rest, will you?” Last time I let you ‘just look’, I ended up with a “But Doyle, we’ve been mates for years,” Bodie Norton minus hubcaps and I still haven’t worked shouted, breaking into a sprint to catch Doyle out how the hell you bent the handlebars like up. “I’ve stood by you—” that. Just look,” he sneered, striding off confi- “Stood behind me, more like,” Doyle muttered dently through the slush and across the black in response, breath clouding the air in front of him. ice, sparing not a glance for poor Bodie slip- “Stood by you,” Bodie repeated, loudly, star- sliding away in his wake. “I’ll ‘just’ bloody ‘look’ tling an old wifey picking her way between the you, mate. You can just keep your mitts and rills of slush and rivulets of ice, “even faced the your beady little eyes off my teddy. And you can Cow for you—” the militant feminist with the just shut up about it while you’re at it and all.” crew cut glowered at him, unnoticed, “I’ve even,” Bodie, trained to resist enemy torture and he paused dramatically, “risked my life for you!” defeat the dirtiest fighters the world had to of-

Doyle, unfortunately, was in the process of fer, simply changed tactics. Pathos and guilt £3£3£3 dodging a homicidal taxi at this point and so hadn’t worked, so now it was down to England’s 47 missed the heartfelt and dramatic declamation. best weapon, the one thing destined to always £3£3£3 Bodie caught up with him again, splashing bring the staunchest of Englishmen to heel. both of them with the crusted black-grey slush Bribery and corruption… as he grabbed Doyle by the arm, spun him “I’ll buy you these new handlebars you’ve around and neatly slid him off the pavement been after.” and into the kerb—just in time for the No. 9 to “Oh, that’s rich. You wouldn’t get me new ones go past, right through the puddle. The big when you fucked the old ones up, but you’ll buy puddle. The one the size of the Red Sea but a new ones so you can get your paws on my teddy. hell of a lot colder. Shivering, Doyle glared at Charmed, I’m sure.” him, shaking off the offending grip and clinging A quick pause for thought, then— “I’ll steal slush whilst muttering dire invectives, not so Murphy’s collection of Dutch video nasties for much under his breath, but more at the top of you.” his lungs. Unable not to hear the imaginative That one didn’t even get a response. Time for recital, the Salvation Army General offered to the big guns, then. pray for his soul. We shall not record what re- “I’ll steal Cowley’s collection of Swedish vid- ply was given to that, shall we now? eos…” Bodie, meanwhile, being large of heart, hav- “Cowley’s collection of Swedish…” A flare of ing the courage of the bearded lion and the balls interest, then a look of disgust. “Nah. That’s of a baboon, was still harping on in a most un- what you bought me off with last time, when angelic way. “C’mon, Doyle, it’s not so much to you almost got me killed when you set fire to ask, is it? I mean, it’s not as if I want to do any- the bonnet of Cowley’s car that day out at the thing to your little teddy, is it? Just want to look, Army training. Pack it in, Bodie. You’re not get- that’s all.” ting my teddy.” Doyle stopped dead in his tracks, derailing a By this time, they were at the corner where toddler from her pram and her mother from what they should, by rights, have parted, Doyle to go

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 AN ABARENT ABEARATION £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 to his flat, Bodie to pick up his car and drive by his words, “with piccalilli and spring onions. himself home. Bodie however, having absolutely And what’re you asking me for? You’re the one no idea of what the welcome mat looked like that made it.” when it was well and truly worn out, invited A heartfelt, long-suffering sigh, more theat- himself back to Doyle’s place, using the unar- rical than real—rather like Bodie’s promises. guable logic of there being no food in his own “Not the food, you great wally. This crap about flat, but Doyle’s flat being where there was a me showing you my teddy and you telling me mound of delectable delicacies. It was also, your darkest secret. As bad as a kid, you are.” purely coincidentally and having no connection He twisted his face into a perfect replica of a whatsoever with his decision, the home of the snotty-nosed brat down the back of the bicycle famous—but never seen—teddy. shed, his voice going high and whiny. “You show And he wanted to see the teddy that would me yours an’ I’ll show you mine.” get Doyle to hang on to it, year after year, all the “Tut, tut, Raymond, my boy. I’d never dream way through art school and the Met and into of doing a thing like that.” A pause, just to make CI5. It had to be something very special indeed, sure the next comment had the desired impact. and Bodie couldn’t bear a mystery. Especially “Wouldn’t want to give you an inferiority com- not when the mystery also promised to be the plex, would I?” best source of slagging and blackmail he’d come “Inferiority—! I’ll inferiority complex you, across in years. He rubbed his hands in equal Bodie! Don’t forget, I’ve seen you, mate, and measures of glee and chill, wincing as the cir- you’re nothing to write home about, are you?” culation returned to his fingertips, the blue be- “Course not! You shock me, old chum, even ginning to fade. Unfortunately—or fortunately, suggesting that you’d write home about my depending on your bent—the blue was not about manly accoutrements. What a thing to do to the to fade from his language. In fact, it was just poor Widow Doyle! Give her a fit of the vapours,

£3£3£3 getting started. that would.” 48 “Come on, Ray,” he mumbled round the last Doyle snorted at him, well aware of his £3£3£3 of the After Eights that he’d unearthed from the mother’s many…men friends. “More like a fit of kitchen cupboard, “what harm can it do to just the giggles. She’s used to better than you, mate.” let me see the bloody thing?” Another pause, this one to wait until Bodie had Doyle gave him an extremely old-fashioned a mouthful of lager. “Not to mention bigger.” look, accompanying it with an extremely mod- The result was most satisfying, even if it was ern two-fingered gesture. disgustingly messy. “You’re no priapus yourself, “But listen,” this time mumbled round the mate. Bigger! If I was any bigger, the only thing last of the tangerines and said to Doyle’s back, I’d be able to get it into would be the Mersey Doyle’s front being busy with throwing together Tunnel.” some semblance of a meal, “I’ll make you an “I thought that’s what your last bird was?” offer you can’t refuse. If you show me your teddy, “Oh, hardy ha-ha, Ray. I,” he did his Lord I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Bodie of the Manor House on the Moor routine, That gave Doyle pause, then common sense “at least had a bird, which is more than can be kicked in and kicked the last remnant of gull- said for you, you pathetic little worm.” ibility out. “Oh, yeh, I believe you, mate. Thou- Doyle looked down at his jeans, and the over- sands wouldn’t, but I do. What is this, anyway?” filled crotch that tested the poor zip to its abso- He hefted the tray and went into the sitting room, lute limits. “Worm? Nah. Serpent, that’s more plonking everything down on the coffee table, me.” grabbing what he wanted for himself and leav- “Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.” ing the mounded piles for Bodie to devour, which “The other one?” He made a great show of he did, and with an alacrity that made Doyle’s feeling himself, fingering both the delineation head spin and stomach churn. of his cock and the fecund swell of his balls. “Toasted cheese with tomatoes,” Bodie an- “Nah. Haven’t got bells on one nor on either of swered, looking at him decidedly askance as the the pair of them. Knew a bloke once, though, last of the food was crammed into the space left that had his scrote pierced.”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 AN ABARENT ABEARATION £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “You what? He’d put an earring through his “Don’t be so fucking insulting, Bodie. We’re balls?” The wince was entirely untheatrical, not all jungle rats, you know. And for your in- Bodie’s line of work having led to more than one formation, he started getting hard just stand- knee in the balls. “Christ, the very thought brings ing there in front of us and then got really tears to my eyes. Hang on a minute. How’d you worked up when I had to look inside him the get to see his balls? Have you,” he minced, wrist second time.” suddenly broken and hand hanging limply, “been There was an edge between them now, be- keeping thecrets from me, dahling?” ginning to cut into them, to sever the ties that Laughing— “Shut up, Bodie. Nah, was when they had been weaving between them. Time to I was with the Drugs Squad. We had a sure tip joke, time to leaven the atmosphere, time to stick about this bloke, but when we picked him up, an elastoplast on this scratch before the air we couldn’t find a thing. So we had to strip could get to it. “Bet he wasn’t bigger than me, search him and I was the lucky feller who got to though.” check his bum, which is where I found the big- Doyle snorted at this display of modesty. “De- gest butt-plug I’ve ever seen. And when he stood lusions of grandeur, that’s you. A blue-arsed fly’s up, there it was. Crotch was all shaved, and he bigger than you, Bodie.” had this gold ring through the skin, right there,” “Is not!” he pointed on himself, despite the fact that his “Is too! Don’t forget, I’ve seen you, mate.” denims rather spoiled the effect. “And,” he went “Oh, yeh, coming out of the shower when it’s on, “he was tattooed as well.” been bloody freezing. Any man’ll shrivel away “On his balls?” to nothing in that fridge they put our showers Doyle leaned back in his chair, grinning hap- in. Bet I’m bigger than you, anyway.” pily at the falsetto squeak that had just erupted “Not going by what’s been revealed by the from Bodie. It wasn’t often he managed to shock showers, not by a long chalk.” world-weary, done-it-all Bodie. “Not on his balls.” “Just cos you’re permanently half-hard £3£3£3 “Well? Come on, Ray, don’t just leave me doesn’t mean to say you’re bigger than me. Just 49 hanging. Where was he tattooed?” means,” he sniffed derisively, “that you’re not £3£3£3 A long, thirst-quenching drink of his lager, getting as much as me and where I’m all re- then a careful wiping of the mouth, then a glance laxed and satisfied—” from under lowered lashes. A few more mo- “And tiny.” ments, until Bodie was suitably on tenterhooks, Bodie ignored that with the contempt it de- and just barest seconds before his partner served. “And satisfied. You’re running around wrung his neck for him, and then he contin- like a dog on heat, desperate to shove it into ued. “Not on his balls—” anything. Should buy you a packet of polo mints. “So you’ve said, Ray. Where the fuck was this The little hole in the middle’s just about right bloke tattooed?” for you.” “On his prick.” “Yeh? Well, you’d need a packet of polo fruits, “You’re having me on, aren’t you?” wouldn’t you, Bodie?” “Scout’s honour. Honest, right along his prick. “What’s that supposed to mean?” A blue serpent, all coiled. Until he got hard, “Oh, get off it, Bodie. Every chance you get, anyway.” you’re checking all the blokes out—” There was something in the way that was Discomfited, face reddening, shifting in his said. “See it, did you? When it wasn’t all coiled, seat. “Natural curiosity to see if anyone’s any- Ray?” where nearly as big as me.” The longest pause of all. “—calling me ‘sweetheart’ and feeling me bum “Yeh.” Blunt with bravado, the challenge in- up.” herent in the single word. It could almost be That was harder to dismiss, the unease be- heard, the unspoken and what’re you going to ginning to creep up from Bodie’s feet to hollow do about it? his belly. “Just messing about, that’s all. Just a “Thought you were an honest copper. Offer bit of harmless fun…” he hoped, oh, how he to let him off if he let you fuck him, was that it?” hoped. This joke had suddenly gone very seri-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 AN ABARENT ABEARATION £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ous, filling him with dread. They’d never men- mightn’t he? And what,” voice gone soft, far tioned sex between them before. That wasn’t to softer than Bodie’s prick, “would you do,” breath say that they hadn’t talked about sex: it would brushing his lips, pink flicker of tongue “then? be an unnatural situation indeed for two such Eh, Bodie?” puerilely, prurient natures not to discuss sex, Staring at the mouth so close to his own, his and at length, but they’d never mentioned sex nerves a-jangle, Bodie moistened his own lips. that had anything to do with them, together, And found his tongue touching Ray’s. His mouth doing sex together, or feeling anything sexual. fell open to let his groan of needing out, letting And the dread was abruptly settling on Bodie’s Ray invade his body, letting them fall easily into shoulders, the dread that Doyle knew precisely a kiss that was hard and demanding. He was what was behind all the matey questions and making noises, he knew, the kind of sounds that dirty jokes and camping. Typical of Doyle, would be embarrassing in the light of day—but though, to pick an evening of light-hearted fun this was hardly the light of day. This was night- to hit him between the eyes with this serious- time, with its veils and secrets and permissive ness, this ripping open of the shroud he used to indulgence. This was fantasy, not reality, for in hide what was going on behind his ever-so-butch reality it could never be so simple. Ray—con- façade. He ground his teeth together, preparing fronting him for his passions, his ill-disguised himself for the worst, readying his denials and passions, bringing what he had believed to be his jokes and all the things he could use to de- secrets out to be aired like so much dirty linen? flect Ray and keep them together. His palms were And then doing nothing less than kissing him, wet, his upper lip beaded with the cold damp- wanting him, coming to him without a word of ness of fear, a trickle of sweat tickling its way condemnation for his lust-filled deceits? Oh, no, down the valley of his shoulder-blades. this could not be his reality. And if it were real- “Harmless fun? That kind of harmless fun ity, then death would be a minor sting compared

£3£3£3 could get you shoved up against a wall and raped to the pain of rejection that was sure to follow. 50 in a dozen pubs in London, mate. You ought to For Ray to be accepting him like this, seeking £3£3£3 be careful what you do, you know, Bodie.” him out like this, tongue delving into his mouth And the voice was nearer, harder, colder, car- like this, oh, this would have to be one of Ray’s rying a threat like the snow clouds that had infamous revenges, that cruel streak of his tied loured over the city, all the playfulness fled, up in the pretty ribbon of desire only to hide the deathly seriousness oppressing him. Frantically, barbed noose that awaited behind. Yes, that Bodie cast around for a joke, a smart alec com- would be it. That would be how his Ray would ment, anything that could get them back to do it, this man who had never once forgotten an matey companionability, but Doyle was still go- enemy, had never once forgotten who owed him, ing, not giving him a chance, bulldozing him. and for what reason. Ray would never let him “D’you know why you ought to be careful what off so easily. It had to be a trick to top the tricks you do, Bodie? Cos if you don’t, you could get he had played these past few months, with his yourself in a lot of trouble. You could give a bloke pretence of ‘just good mates’ messing about. His the idea that you’re coming on heavy with him, mind was reeling, but his body had no such and he might not like that. Might even put your uncertainty, hands groping under fabric to find prick—” a hand, flashing white in the lamplight, the subtlety of skin and the voluptuosity of clamping down around his cock, pressing the nipple rising from the warmth of hair. Doyle black fabric in and around him, fingers moving wriggled, and his lap was suddenly overflowing until his balls were caught up in the strong grip with the heat of a body, all arms and legs and “—in a sling for you, mightn’t he? Or,” hard, kisses, covering him, enveloping him. lethal knee coming to press between his thighs, Ensnaring him. threatening gelding and pain, “he might,” sud- Setting him up for the kill, trapping him into den move of the hand, the grip loosening, fin- making the final move, the one that would de- gers cupping, volte-facing the atmosphere with clare him as more than merely curious or randy. dizzying speed, sitting room become seraglio, The one that would declaim him lover. There “take you up on what he sees as an offer, wasn’t even the faintest echo of their humour

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 AN ABARENT ABEARATION £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 left, all gone, chased out by the sickening dread “Wouldn’t be a maiden aunt if she was of what Doyle was trying to do to him. Fear fucking, would she?” Bodie’s voice was as stiff flashed into anger, as it is wont to do when as a leg in plaster, and as ungainly. Nothing whipped by insecurity and hurt, so that he more than a show of being all right, of not being heaved upwards, toppling Ray off him, tipping thrown by any of this. Of knowing what the hell him onto the coffee table, from whence he slowly was going on. slid to the floor. “Well, you’ve done your fair share of fucking, “What the fuck was that in aid of?” Doyle but you’re still fat-arsing around like a maiden demanded, wiping his lips, not of blood, but of aunt, aren’t you? Oh, sit down, will you? You the wetness of their kisses. look like Nelson’s Column standing there on “Isn’t that my line, Doyle? Shouldn’t I be ask- your dignity.” ing you that? I mean, one minute we’re just sit- Bodie sat, mainly because it was easier than ting here and the next thing I know, you’ve standing—and it let him see Ray’s face, gave plonked yourself in my lap and stuck your him a chance to see what was going on behind tongue down my throat. You’re the one that’s the words. “You setting me up, Ray?” he heard got some explaining to do,” he paused for breath himself ask. and to gather his vitriol into one globule of bit- “Only for bed, Bodie. That’s it. Come on, don’t terness, “mate.” look at me like that. Look, it’s as plain as the Doyle stared up at him, dignity not in the nose on your face that you’ve fancied me from least bit tattered by lying there on the floor, the word go, right? And I fancy you just as much. mouth swollen from kisses, trousers half-open— The only reason I came on to you tonight was,” and that sight shocked Bodie, for he didn’t even he bent forward, taking Bodie’s shoes off him, remember doing that, hadn’t realised that he’d tossing socks under the table, “it seemed like been so far gone in passion that he didn’t even the right moment.” He glowered up at him, all know what he was doing—and his shirt splayed hair and daring, “And don’t you tell me I’m £3£3£3 and dishevelled, nipples peaking upwards. Bodie wrong, either.” 51 stared back down at him, benumbed with his Bodie was getting used to these roller-coaster £3£3£3 own frantic effort to hold onto his own dignity, changes, the sudden alterations in mood. He desperate not to break in front of Doyle, des- eased back in his seat, allowing a little sprite of perate not to be found out in his weakness. Even delight dance inside him as it began dawning with all that, his cock was still aching, his hands on him that maybe it really was as simple as a still itching to reach out and hold, his mind dream. Perhaps it was as simple as Ray want- screaming at him to take what was on offer. But ing him as much as he wanted Ray. He could he dared not, wasn’t about to set himself up for get to like this particular reality… the fall of Doyle’s laughter and Doyle’s vicious “I never disagree with a man who’s got his tongue and… gun on,” he whispered, flicking a finger at the “You berk. You absolute fucking berk. You’ve article in question, smiling when nimble fingers got to be the biggest idiot I’ve ever come across hauled it off, sending it under the table with in my entire life, Bodie. Or maybe I should call the socks. “That’s better. Ray…” question you Willie, eh? Nice little boy’s name for a man colouring his voice a watery grey, “This really is who’s a total prat. Can’t ever let your pride go, genuine, isn’t it? I mean, you really mean to go can you? You’ve always got to turn it into some through with this. You’re not going to leave me kind of contest, haven’t you?” He got to his feet, hanging, or make a fool of me or…” not moving away from Bodie, sitting himself Ray’s eyes were glinting with a mixture of down on the much-abused coffee table, peeling humour and ire, but Bodie launched into more shoes and socks off as he kept on talking. “And speech before Doyle could deliver his comments. if it isn’t your stupid pride, it’s that fucking chip “It’s just…well, it’s just that, well, I like you, on your shoulder. One or the other, you can’t and I do fancy you—fancy you something just jump in there, oh, no, not you. You’ve got chronic, to tell you the truth—but…” to have proof, you’ve got to have time. You’ve “But it’d hurt you if I were just winding you got to behave like a maiden fucking aunt.” up?”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 AN ABARENT ABEARATION £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “Yeh. And if you go on with this now, Ray, ing over Niagara. A child in swaddling clothes and then I find out you didn’t mean any of this, had never been held more tightly nor cherished I’ll kill you. I promise you, Ray, I’ll kill you.” more dearly as he was, with Ray all around him, Doyle knew his Bodie, knew when threats the lithe body sitting astride his lap, lush back- were red warning flags and when they were side a home for his cock to nestle in. He cradled simple statements of facts. He held himself very Ray, his hands cupping buttocks, his chest rub- still, listening, watching warily, held in thrall bing against Ray’s, his mouth on a level with by the sheer strength of this man, whose power the vulnerability of Ray’s throat. He sucked him equalled his. there, leaving his mark, making the blood blos- “This is it, Ray, point of no return, mate. You som under his tongue and lips until Ray was can back out now, and we’ll just toss all this off moaning, rubbing his face in Bodie’s hair, his as a joke that got out of line, pretend it was hands kneading and roaming all over Bodie’s nothing more, nothing less. But if you keep up back. with me, if you sleep with me, and if we start Feet braced firmly on the short pile of the this… God help me, Ray, if you pull a fast one carpet, Bodie balanced himself on the edge of on me, then I’ll kill you. If you’re messing me the chair, the hard edge cutting into him just about…” another in the cornucopia of sensation. He was Even Cowley had been known to back down a convexity of muscle that was supporting Ray, from this mood of Bodie’s, but Ray Doyle was their bodies curving together perfectly, with Ray nothing if not Bodie’s match. kneeling astride him, pressing them close to- “You know, you really should take one of these gether within the confines of the upholstery. assertiveness class things, Bodie. Learn to ex- Bodie breathed deeply of the scent of them min- press yourself and stop kowtowing to everyone gling, his sweat with Doyle’s, his musk rising to around you. Anyway, d’you think I’d go around blend with Ray’s, all of it quite, quite wonderful

£3£3£3 risking my job just to risk my neck winding you to him. He licked, the movement suddenly deli- 52 up? No chance, mate. I leave doing stupid things cate amidst the rawness of passion, and Ray £3£3£3 to you. Now,” he got to his feet, started taking went still, concentrating his entire being on that his clothes off, Bodie’s eyes widening with every one single inch of him that was being caressed. inch of flesh uncovered, “I’ll give you your last Bodie hands stilled on him also, as his tongue chance, sunshine. Now or never. You either take moved, roving the hot flesh, lapping at the deli- me up on my offer,” his thumbs lingered under cacy of fresh sweat, sucking on the hair of chest the waistband, “or we can just…” and underarm. His erection was shouting at Bodie grabbed him, stoppering his mouth him, pleading with him to touch it, to squeeze with his tongue and pulling him in close, until it, stroke it, anything, but best of all, to bury it they were tangled together in an ungainly heap in Ray’s body that was snuggled up so close and in the wide chair. Bodie couldn’t believe his luck, tight to it. Bodie shifted again, unable to stay not that he was about to question it right now, still, and Ray’s eyes flew open, head dropping not when it seemed that this time reality was back, exposing the long column of his neck. actually going to be better than fantasy. His in- And Bodie, looking, thought of how it would herent doubts struggled to be heard, but he feel to fill that throat with the length of his cock, gagged them, filling himself instead with the then the thought of that shot through him, intoxication of holding Ray, of pulling him in making him want even more. Making him want close, until they were chest to chest. Hands were the deliciousness of being buried in someone denuding him of his shirt, plucking at his trou- else’s body, of plundering someone else’s flesh, sers, and he joined the contortions to doff his of being part of someone else. clothes, never allowing his mouth to leave Ray. Ray. This wasn’t someone else, this was Ray, Mouth to mouth, or his lips on Ray’s skin, tast- who was already so much a part of him. This ing him, sucking at him, it didn’t matter, as long was Ray, and he was already under Ray’s skin. as he didn’t let go. He didn’t want to lose this, To be part of him…might be asking too much. not for a second, not when the sensation was It had been so terribly, frighteningly easy for washing over him until he felt like a barrel go- them to start this sex between them, and any-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 AN ABARENT ABEARATION £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 thing so easily started, anything so easily given, Yes, he thought, a vast calm rising in him, might be just as readily shucked as a snake’s counterpoint to the frenzy of passion that was useless skin. But how he wanted it! His back jangling his nerves. Us, together, properly. No arched, without him telling it to, forcing his cock holds barred. Not even, he thought, hands skim- hard against Ray’s belly, forcing Ray’s cock to ming Ray’s spine, this one. butt at him with single-minded intensity. Ray’s “You want me to fuck you, Ray?” he whis- hands were on him too, gripping him with the pered, although he knew the answer. He wanted, same commanding insistence. The grip, and the suddenly and quite desperately, to hear it again. words, penetrated him the way he wanted to “Yeh…” long drawn out, on a sigh of pleasure penetrate Ray: in a single plunging stroke, fill- as Ray dragged his cock through the line of hair ing him until he was overflowing, bursting with that stood out, stark black, on the whiteness of the glory of it all. Bodie’s belly. “Fuck me,” he heard, in his ears and his mind. Certain questions still needed answering, “Fuck me, hard, come on, Bodie, shove it up before they could go on, no matter what their me, fuck me, fuck me…” He heard that in his bodies were squirrelling together to do. “Been body. “Come on, you bastard, don’t make me fucked before, have you?” he asked, thumb cir- wait, waited long enough, come on, love me, love cling delicate flesh, me…” He heard that in his heart. “Oh, yeh,” Doyle groaned, pressing back, let- He stopped Doyle’s undulation, wrapping his ting Bodie’s arms support his weight as he tried arms around the slimmer body, pulling him in to entice the broad thumb inside. so close, his heart was beating against Ray’s. “So I see, sunshine. Oh, you are hungry for “What’d you say?” it, aren’t you? And you know what this is all Eyes glassy with passion, Doyle stared at him about, don’t you, Ray?” this last as his thumb for a moment, utterly blank of anything but his eased inwards. “No need for us to go ferreting feelings. And that, was all the explanation Bodie around in the bog for some cream, is there? £3£3£3 needed, answering every question that had Fuck, but you’re perfect, Ray. Come on, lean 53 threatened him with its doubts. It really was as back a bit more, up on your knees a bit, let me £3£3£3 simple as all that, as simple as Doyle facing him get my prick wet.” With Doyle curving over him, with all the camping and flirtation; facing him thigh muscles quivering, mouth covering Bodie not with rejection but with the gumption to do with biting kisses, Bodie spat into his hand, something about it. So simple, so simple that it using the saliva to whet his cock like a knife. had never ever occurred to him that it might He took Ray’s weight on his hands, holding him even be possible. Ray, in love with him. up while Ray reached down to grab Bodie’s cock As he was with Ray. and guide it, quickly, too quickly to his hole. Fingers burying themselves in Ray’s hair, There was a keening cry as Ray lowered him- tongue burying itself in Ray’s mouth, he closed self, fighting both Bodie’s strength and the tight- his eyes until he could see the thought written ness of his own body, but there was no denying on his mind. Him, in love. With Ray. So simple, him. As Bodie entered him, Ray still guided him, really. So terribly simple, to love when one is muscle dilating and flesh parting until Bodie loved in return. So simple, to face that fear of was completely inside him. loving when there was someone that he knew Awed, Bodie watched his face, measuring he could trust. Ray’d made it plain that this was every change of sensation that was engraved no vicious one-upmanship, made it plain that there. He watched as the initial pleasure turned it was something he wanted as much as—no, to pain, then as that pain burned out and the more! flashed across his inner eye—Bodie him- pleasure returned, transforming Doyle’s face, self did. So simple, and so right, that they should bringing the translucence of ecstasy to him. have come to love each other. Made such per- Watched, as the sweat sprang out to bead his fect sense, considering how they lived and skin, and as muscle flexed. Watched, until the worked. Like a marriage, Cowley had said, and sweetness of being clenched tightly inside Ray’s that old boot knew more of life than either one body drove him to move, to thrust upwards, even of them ever would. though he could barely move. Ray, however, was

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 AN ABARENT ABEARATION £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 not constrained by the weight of a man on top their pleasure. He didn’t need to hear it, for he of him, and so he began to lift himself up on his already knew how he felt about this man in his knees, rising up until it was only the tip of arms. And he had seen, there, on Ray’s face, Bodie’s cock that was still in him. Bodie hissed just how much Ray felt about him. As the in- his pleasure as Ray lowered himself, forging tensity faded, his hands were broad on Ray’s them together again, encompassing him in the strong back as he gentled him with caresses and heat of another body, devouring him completely. his mouth was soft and sweet on Ray’s face as Again and again he was absorbed, his cock ca- he declared himself without another word be- ressed and Ray’s body held him tighter than his ing spoken. own fist ever could. This was better than any- For a long time, it seemed to them, lost in thing he’d ever known before, male or female, each other, they sat like that, although in real no-one had ever touched him so deeply. time it was only a matter of minutes before the He’d never touched anyone so deeply, either. cramping of muscle and the awkward crush of It was there on Ray’s face, and in the flush that the chair made them move. There was a flurry stained him, and in the marks of passion that of motion, of straightening of limbs, of rearrang- Bodie’s mouth had left on him. It was there, ing themselves so that both could breathe and most of all, in the rapt expression on his face, neither would fall. as if he was folded in on himself, savouring noth- In the end, Ray got to his feet, and with that ing of life but the feeling of having Bodie inside separation, unease crawled in. Bodie looked him. Bodie fastened his mouth to Ray’s nipple, away as Ray bent to gather clothes, made fum- biting and sucking, trying to fill his mouth as bling youth by the vast vulnerability he had just he filled Ray’s body. He wanted to kiss him, but displayed to this man with such shocking lack to do that, he’d have to withdraw, separate them of caution. One thing, to know it was all so and he couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t do that. simple, in the throes of passion, another to ap-

£3£3£3 Instead, he clenched his hands on Ray’s waist, ply that lack of complication to the complexi- 54 using his strength to control the rhythm, push- ties of real life. Butterfingered, he fumbled £3£3£3 ing them faster, making Ray groan with the plea- around for something to say, for the right thing sure of it, pumping him up and down. to say, for something that wouldn’t spoil this, Orgasm was gathering inside his belly, with or turn it into something that would fizzle and Ray’s cock bumping the outside of him there, die. Although it wouldn’t die, not for him. He’d begging for his attention, begging for release. known that the minute he’d seen inside himself Bodie thrust up harder, fucking Ray, Ray rising to the bed-rock well of emotion he had for this up on his knees, the long, lean muscles of his man. And he thought he’d seen the self-same thighs trembling, then Bodie grabbing him, his certainty in Ray, but that had been in lust and own strength and the weight of Ray’s body he knew how men lied when they were on the plunging him down until Bodie was sunk in him verge of getting what they so desperately wanted. up to the hilt, his thighs sticky against Ray’s After all, how many times had he told some arse, his hands clutching at flesh, his mouth girl that he loved her, just to get to fuck her? open and ravaging on Ray’s chest. Bodie held Or just to make it a bit special for himself, a him there, held him still, while he pulsed up- dream come true? Oh, he knew how often and wards into him, tiny, small movements that how well men lied when sex was at stake. And rubbed him with exquisite finesse on the sweet he was too insecure to believe what his own bump of gland buried inside. Once, twice, he eyes had shown him: there were too many did that, shivering over every inch of his body women—and men, for that matter—in his own as he felt the tremor start inside Ray, felt the past who’d seen love and devotion all over his ripple of orgasm in Ray, spreading outwards to face, when they were lost in lust. He jumped, him like a stone dropping in a pond. He didn’t startled, when fingers touched his belly. Ray’s hear himself, nor Ray, didn’t hear what they fingers, gathering up his seed where the heat said, nor the roughness of their voices as they of Bodie’s body was turning the cloudy white said it. Didn’t hear the words of devotion lap into translucence. Fascinated, Bodie watched from him, waves in echo of the rippling effect of him, entranced by the beauty of this man as

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 AN ABARENT ABEARATION £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 he tasted his own semen, licking his fingertips “Bodie, I haven’t had a teddy bear since with the delicacy of a courtesan. my old Rupert died when I was seven and me “Saltier than usual,” Doyle murmured. “Must and Mum buried him down the allotment.” be your sweat, sunshine, mixed in with me.” Realisation lit his eyes like Oxford Street at “Yeh?” Bodie hesitated a moment, then did Christmas and the laughter gurgled from him. something he’d never quite cared to do before: “Oh, Christ, that bloody Murphy, I’ll kill him! he dappled his fingers in the cloying semen, The teddy in question, Mr. Bodie,” he said, in bringing it to his mouth, taking it inside, tast- his best boys-in-blue voice, “is the one I ing another man. And finding that he didn’t nicked when I was 14. Stolen, I might add, particularly like it, although it was definitely a from the woman two doors down, the night— taste to which he could become very accus- ” his head disappeared into the wardrobe, tomed. Eyes fixed on Ray’s, he gathered some accompanied by sundry noises of rustling and more cum, licking his fingers lasciviously, mak- riffling before he emerged again, a small, ex- ing a meal of the tiny fragment that was left. tremely tattered carrier bag in his hand, “—I Doyle exuded confidence and contentment, lost my virginity. This, you stupid sod, is my taking hold of the moment, handling it deftly, teddy.” moulding this new sexual and emotional dimen- And it was. A froth of powder blue chiffon sion until it fitted perfectly into the fabric of their and ribbons, with a few feathers still clinging partnership. “You know something, Bodie, I round the décolletage. think we’d better adjourn to the bedroom. You “That’s never a teddy—they’re baby dolls!” could break your back on that chair, with what Bodie yelped, astounded by the evening’s sec- I have in mind to do to you.” ond unexpected turn of events. “Promises, promises,” Bodie said, his tone “Is too a teddy! She was a Yank, married to aggrieved, his face alight with anticipation as one of their servicemen over here. An’ if she he followed a naked Doyle into Doyle’s bedroom, wanted to lead me astray showing me what she £3£3£3 his hands itching to grasp those buttocks as called her teddy, who was I to argue?” 55 they teased him into the other room, wholeheart- “You were fourteen? And she fitted this?” £3£3£3 edly embracing the quiet settling back into what Bodie looked up at him with new respect—this they had always been, singing inside at the way had to be at least a 38D. He felt a proper fool, everything was clicking together with such though, considering what he had thought—a pleasing finality. “Here, speaking of promises, grown man, an ex-copper who was tougher you were going to show me your teddy.” than old boots, still clutching his beloved teddy “When did I promise that, eh? Anyway, any- to him? He deserved the snickering laughter thing I said was under duress, to get you into Ray was covering him with. He pasted on a look bed with me, so none of it counts, does it?” of fatuous adulation over the genuine adora- The covers were turned back for him, but tion he felt, even if the little bugger was being Bodie grabbed Doyle before he could hide him- such a pain. “Oh, Raymond, darling,” he sim- self away in the bed. He didn’t want to stop be- pered, proffering the frills, “wear it for me, daring able to see Ray, not yet. The way he was ling, do.” feeling, he admitted to himself wryly, Ray might When Doyle had picked himself up off the never get to put clothes on again in his life. “Not floor and regained some of his composure, hys- so fast, sunshine. You said you’d show me your terics subsiding to mere hiccoughs, Bodie found teddy if I told you my deepest, darkest secret. himself taken firmly in hand and dragged by So where’s the teddy then? Come on, where’s the—firming quite nicely—prick to the bed. “Get this teddy bear that you’ve carried with you half in, you great berk, and let me at you. Teddy!” your life?” he snorted. “As if I’d have one or wear one, “Teddy bear?” Doyle stared at him with pa- American or otherwise.” tently honest confusion. “What teddy bear?” Bodie pulled him in close, abruptly impatient “What d’you mean, what teddy bear? Your with the light-hearted talk and needful of Ray, fucking teddy bear, that’s what fucking teddy kissing him with a quiet intensity that stole both bear I mean.” their breaths away and stole Ray’s heart.

£3£3£3 56 £3£3£3

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 SILVER THRUPPENCE Sooner or later it seems that every Pros writer sits down and does a Christmas story, or two, or three…Well why not? Christmastime is the perfect time for tales of love and romance. And despite what you might expect from the wee Scot, this piece is no more, and no less than a romantic love story. I SAW THREE SHIPS GAEL X. ILE

HE COULD SMELL THE COLDNESS OF THE AIR, the reek of chasing next door’s cat. He missed that old of frost and the aching need for snow to siphon dog, sometimes, but only when he was getting off the worst of the cold, all of that overwhelm- maudlin and needed reminding of why he wasn’t ing the fainter aromas of plum pudding and over-fond of dogs. He still had the scar on his goose. And that grimy smell—the one that al- hand from when she’d nabbed his choc ice from ways seemed to cling to eight year old boys— him that day. the unpleasantly familiar odour was rising from Of course, now that one noise had caught the lower bunk. He rolled over, shoulder shrug- his attention, all the other little night time ging quickly back under the Star Wars duvet, sounds started intruding. face turned towards the beauty of hoar frost That rustle had to be dear old Aunt Agatha, pliéing across the window, back-lit by the tucked up, dead to the world, in the back bed- £3£3£3 streetlight outside. It would be dark for hours room. He snorted faintly in amusement: small 57 yet, and quiet, for not even the rapacious greed wonder she could boast that she slept like a £3£3£3 of children would be awake until at least five. log. After sampling the sherry for the trifle—‘have Here it was, barely four, and he’d had all the to make sure it’s sweet enough, dear’—and the sleep he needed. Exercise and fitness, that’s brandy for the plum pudding—‘can’t let that what it was, keeping him from sleeping his life skinflint uncle of yours get away with using some away like the rest of the family. cheap rubbish and keeping all the good stuff Family, he thought to himself, almost mut- for himself, can we?’—and every type of Scotch tering it aloud. Bloody presents and games and in the house—‘well, I never have been able to playing charades, not all of the latter in the liv- resist a mystery, you know that, dear. Absolutely ing room for the family’s laughter. No, most of must find out which one they used to flavour his charades came when he smiled pleasantly the whisky cake, won’t rest until I’ve tracked it and lied about what he did for a living. These down’—and every other, even vaguely alcoholic people, his flesh and blood, were what he risked drink in the house—‘you know I’m not a drinker, his life for and typical of the whole bloody na- dear, but I live in hope that I’ll find something tion, the family disapproved of violence and to let me join in the sociableness of it all’—it guns, tut-tutting over the American police shows was a wonder the old tart wasn’t dead from al- with their ‘excessive violence’. He’d show them coholic poisoning, instead of just sleeping like excessive violence, if he could persuade Cowley the dead. And that snoring had to be the be- to let them come on an oppo with the rest of the loved Uncle Frank. With the racket he made, squad. Now that was violence and none of it maybe it wasn’t so surprising his wife hit the dubbed in later complete with jangling music bottle as much as she did—probably the only and jiggling tits. way she could ever get any sleep at all, with the A peculiar noise interrupted him and he Flying Scotsman rattling away in her ear. tensed, waiting, until he recognised it: old Petra, Creaking bedsprings. That was none other snuffling and growling in her sleep, dreaming than his delightful little sister and her lout—

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 sorry, husband, but it was so hard to tell the interesting, running off up North to marry the difference. Nice enough bloke, he supposed, if man she loved, not the man she ought to marry. you went for the chinless, witless wonder type Without her around any more, there really didn’t who never thought beyond the game on Satur- seem to be much point in hanging about this day and his pint of an evening. Any evening. banal little house with its banal little people. And any match, just as long as he got to sprawl He’d’ve forgiven them if they’d at least had a on the settee to watch it, complete with action few interestingly nasty vices, but their idea of replays to fill in the blanks his pathetic little vice was two choc-ices at the pictures topped brain had missed. Thinking of pathetic little off with a drink of Kia-Ora. Christ, none of them brains, his Aunt Brenda would be up and about even knew what he did for a living, small minded by five, sallow face fallen with not sin but mis- and lack-lustre enough to believe his pap about ery, because there would be no-one else up for the civil service and paper pushing. Him! As wild hours to appreciate her sacrifice and her hard as he’d been, they honestly believed he’d settled work and how badly she’d done her back in, down into a nice little civil servant, quietly and lugging that great big goose into the oven be- pedantically working his way up the ladder, say- cause there wasn’t a single one of these ungrate- ing yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir and tug- ful toe-rags willing to get up out of their nice ging on his forelock with the proper obsequi- cosy beds to help her struggle through the bit- ousness. ter chill of morning, up before dawn—never mind He rolled onto his back, stretching, toes that dawn wouldn’t show its overcast face until pressing against the bottom of the bed, creak- eight at least—fingers numb with the cold, and ing the bedstead, making the whole rickety tower her ‘dying of the ’flu an’ all’… Oh, the joys of shake. Eddie snuffled and rumbled and sounded Aunt Brenda, M.B.E.—Martyr of the British like a pig after a truffle, then descended into Empire, with bells on. silence again. Distant door opening, door clos-

£3£3£3 Bells, oh christ, Cousin Maggie and her brood. ing, footsteps, door opening, door closing, faint 58 She’d be showing up with Denis to play cha- noises, toilet flushing, door opening, door clos- £3£3£3 rades and her unruly squad would insist on ing, footsteps, door opening, door closing… having a party game of tolling bells, not one of He wanted to scream, to rave and rant like a them the expert bell-ringer they claimed to be. lunatic, wave his gun around and wake this Last time he’d been home for Christmas, he’d bunch of zombies up. But all they’d do is look had to spend half-an-hour admiring the full set at him blankly, and tell him of how they disap- of hand-held bells they polished for so many proved of guns and violence, then turn away to hours. Pity they hadn’t spent any of those hours watch Dirty Harry again, eyes glazing, minds practising how to play the damned things. And blanking… little Sarah would be 18 by now, and if she came A whole day of it, with no interruptions. A with the brood, he’d not have the excuse of her whole day, which was ten times longer than the being underage to escape her clawing clutches. time he’d spent with them last night and only Maybe he could come up with a girlfriend be- an hour before Aunty Brenda started her moan- fore Sarah and her giggle could arrive… ing and complaining and clattering in the They really weren’t a bad lot, he conceded, kitchen so that everyone could appreciate what burrowing right in under the duvet, hiding him- a good-hearted, self-sacrificing soul she was… self from both the cold coming through the win- He almost fell, he got out of the bed so quickly, dow and the rather disturbing noises that were his training turning the fall into a light-footed, coming from the bottom bunk: they should know secure landing. Shivering in the cold, skin blued better than to feed baked beans and cabbage to by the night-time and the chill, he threw his young Eddie, even if it was his favourite meal. clothes on with the long efficiency of being ready No, they weren’t a bad lot, and that was half the to go racing to wherever Cowley was sending trouble. The other half of the trouble was that them this time. The few things he’d brought with they were all so bloody petty. Petty problems, him were stuffed into his carry-all, flopping to petty secrets. Not a deep, dark secret amongst the bottom of the bag, tons of space left behind them. His mum was the only one who had been by the presents that had joined the obligatory

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 pile of unimagination under the tree. The emp- Doyle, wake him up as if they were kids and it a tiness gave him an idea, making him grin. Si- sin to sleep past five on Christmas Day. He found lently, he crept downstairs, into the kitchen, far carols on Radio 4 and he sang along, gleefully more quietly than Brenda would ever manage. anticipating rousting Doyle from his nice warm The light from the fridge highlighted his face as bed at this unholy hour. He thought of bare feet he raided it, grabbing a bit of this, a taste of on cold lino, of a sleep-tousled Doyle making that. There was so much food here, they’d never him a cuppa, and almost blew the roof of the miss a bit of it, and if he was going back to his car off as he joined the King’s College Choir with empty flat, he’d need a bit of food in, wouldn’t “I Saw Three Ships.” he? Not even Ali would be open until mid-morn- The buzzer was delectably loud as he pressed ing, and once he got in, he’d not be going back on it, the frost cutting into his lungs as the noise out again, not in this weather. So he filled his from the door cut into the morning. He still bag, Santa in reverse, lading himself with the found the wherewithal to smile, though, even one thing he always thoroughly enjoyed about though his feet were at that painful stage just Christmas. before numbness sets in and his nose was Tiptoing to the front door, he glanced in at threatening to drip and his eyes were stinging the living room, forlorn in the dark before morn- as badly as his lungs. The thought of Doyle being. He had presents under that tree, but he ing dragged out of his lovely warm bed was wouldn’t miss another pink shirt or packet of enough to make him grin even if Cowley were to socks, would he? Still, it didn’t seem right, leav- show up. (I saw three ships come sailing in, re- ing the tree like that, not on Christmas morn- duced to a soft, gleeful whistle) ing. His mum had always made sure the tree “Who the hell is it?” was lit before the rest of the family got up. To Oh, better and better, if Doyle was already so make the magic of Christmas shine, she’d al- miffed that he wasn’t saying hello. Didn’t sound ways said. To capture some of the angels’ glitter sleepy, though, which was a pity. “Ho, ho, ho,” £3£3£3 before they went back up to Heaven, keeping Bodie boomed, trying to sound fat and bearded 59 some here on Earth for her own little boy… and jolly. £3£3£3 Funny, how you could still miss someone, “Ho, ho, ho yourself,” came back, almost even after all these years. drowned out by the buzz of the door-release. Sure footed in the dark, he found the plug, Bodie covered the small garden in absolutely shoved it into the socket, flicked the switch down record time, slipping and slithering on the and the fairy lights came on, all twinkling in the crunchy frost, a million stars twinkling beneath cold air, the old magic feeling of Christmas morn- his feet. Doyle was already at the door, holding ing stealing his breath, just for a second, the it open, hauling him into a breathtaking warmth way his mum said it always would, because that that stifled him for a second, stealing his breath. first breath on Christmas morning belonged to A proper Christmas morning, then, if he’d al- the Baby. He’d lost his—her—faith long, long ready given a breath to the Baby and to the ago, but still, she echoed in him, sometimes. memory of his mother’s Christmases… He made As he got into the freezing car, he looked back a face at himself for being so stupid and falling at the tree glittering away happily in the win- back to the habits of childhood, comfortably ig- dow. He was glad to see the back of his termi- noring what some would see as the less than nally dull family, but the sight of that tree made mature behaviour of turning up on a friend’s him less willing to go home to his own flat and doorstep at five in the morning. spend the day on his own. There was always “If seeing me makes you feel that sick, what’d one other place he could go, one other person you come over for then?” who’d not be surprised to see him, not even at 5 “Wasn’t making a face at you. Here, take one o’clock on Christmas morning. And he knew he’d of these bags, will you, while I start bunging be welcomed, filling an otherwise solitary day, things in the fridge.” Doyle not being one to even go through the “Rob Sainsbury’s on the way, did we?” motions when it came to family, preferring in- “Nah. Just borrowed a couple of things from tegrity to insincerity. Yeh. He’d go knock up dear old Aunt Agatha, that’s all. We can give

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 them back if you want,” he said, sounding hope- radiating from the oven, until they were en- ful, “after we’ve eaten them, of course. Might sconced in their own little enclave of heat and liven that lot up, you know. It is the day for light, the large still darkness of Christmas morn- miracles, isn’t it?” ing breathing quietly outside. (On Christmas “That bad, eh?” Day, the notes now bouncing around inside his “Worse. Aunt Aggie’s been at the sherry again, head, On Christmas Day) so that means no-one’s safe until the mistletoe Reaching past Doyle to do his share of cook- comes down. Brenda’s thicker than usual—had ing breakfast—slicing the bread for frying—his a Very Meaningful Discussion with her on the watch caught on the back of Doyle’s sweater, subject of Snow Stains on Suede Boots and How the thick Aran stitch grabbing on and not let- to Avoid Ruining Boots. Uncle Frank’s dead, but ting go. his body still doesn’t know. Keeps on telling jokes “For christ’s sake, Bodie!” This, muffled, from worse than the smell from your socks.” Doyle, bent double to get the eggs out of the “Oh, thank you. Here, give me that. Cheese cupboard. “Gerroff!” shouldn’t be kept in the fridge, Bodie, you’ll ruin “Can’t,” Bodie said, also muffled, this from it. What,” he added, juggling the Edam and the trying not to laugh at Doyle’s contortions, which tin of custard, “about your darling little sister were only ensnaring his watch more firmly. May?” “What d’you mean, can’t? Get off me, Bodie.” “Unfortunately, despite what she said last “I’m not on you, sweetheart.” Wish I was, week, she and the louse managed to get there though, he thought, Doyle’s face pressing against after all. Would you believe they parked his his thigh as they stumbled up against the cup- bloody artic on the street, right outside the house board. A hand had grabbed onto him, round like a bloody lay-by café?” his outer thigh, the right leg, the pocket where “She pregnant yet?” he’d stuffed his car keys, and he could feel the

£3£3£3 “Not from want of trying, anyway. Couldn’t hardness of metal surrounded by the firmness 60 keep their hands off each other, paws up dresses and heat of Doyle’s hand. Was so aware of that, £3£3£3 and everything.” of the hard hand on his thigh, the hard ridge of “Ooh, ducky,” Doyle whispered, batting his cheekbone on his other thigh. Even believed he eyelashes, leaning into Bodie in a wickedly funny could tell that the cheekbone was the smooth parody of May, “you didn’t tell me ’e was a trans- one, the hand the one that bore the bracelet. vestite. ’Ow thrilling. ’Ere, d’yer think I could And while his body was inhaling the sensations, get ter meet ’im?” his mind was making his mouth speak, as “No, petal, he’s too much of a man for a deli- brusque as it knew how, hiding, always hiding cate little flower like you.” just how much he loved touching Ray. “Stupid “So I should stick to you then, eh, butch?” watch’s caught on one of these bumpy, patterny Bodie grinned at him happily, slipping so bits on your jumper. Stop squirming!” Please, comfortably into their usual camp, the bright before you move that last inch and feel how hard friendship washing over him. He could have I am… “Can’t get it undone with you squirrelling hugged Doyle then, would have, if he’d been a around down there. Hang on… There, that’s it. woman. Or if the attraction between them had You can stand up now,” but his hand rested, ever been spoken of. But instead of filling his lightly, on the curve of back, fingertips moving hands with Doyle, he filled them with the food- just a breath, sneaking an extra touch. stuffs of breakfast, mishandling the frying pan “Thanks, mate,” sarcasm heavy, but that was well enough that Doyle automatically took the more, perhaps, to cover the flush in his cheeks. work over. Then Bodie was free to lean against Doyle shied away, turning too quickly back to the wall, feasting his eyes on the sharp grace of the worktop, egg box in hand, abruptly concen- Ray’s movements. As sausages were stabbed trating on making breakfast. with fork and rind trimmed from bacon, he It was turning on them, the way it always watched, constant jokes pattering from him, did, changing from the sweet lightness of camp- keeping Ray’s eyes laughing and his smile broad. ing it up with each other, to this, this congeal- The kitchen was warming up even more, heat ing silence. There’d be an argument next, split-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ting them apart, wedging a no-man’s-land be- and piling food on plates, of pouring the tea and tween them, putting them both back firmly in balancing the mugs without spilling something the land of friends only, nothing more, just that, all over the pale beige of floor. They went on to don’t touch, don’t get too close… the sitting room, a dark place with curtains Not today. He wasn’t going to let it happen drawn, but warm, the fire on, the red heat of it today. (On Christmas Day, On Christmas Day) flickering on the gilt of Christmas cards which “You should’ve told me you wanted pyjamas hung over the mantle. There were a lot of cards: from Santa, I’d’ve had a word with him for you.” two strings of them, so many from people who Doyle didn’t look at him, seemingly too busy, had cause to owe Doyle. Some, even, were from carefully turning the bacon under the grill and family, signed casually with a name, but none sliding the bread into the pan. “What’re you of the messages that filled the cards came from going on about now, Bodie?” friends and colleagues. “You, sleeping in your good Aran instead of “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, blue pyjamas from Marks.” Raymond! Can’t have that, can we?” Doyle didn’t answer immediately, picking up Mouth stuffed with burning hot tomato, Doyle a fork and slowly turning the sausages so that glowered at him and mumbled something, which the crisp browned skin was on top, the pallid Bodie took to be a polite question. pink underneath. There was a sudden hissing “The tree lights out, of course. Can’t have that and spitting as the softness was seared. Bodie on Christmas morning, mate. Where’s the plug?” watched him, abruptly patient, with the famil- A finger, pointing, then two fingers gesticu- iar calm of waiting for Doyle opening in him. He lating. knew that lack of expression, that sedate preci- “You should be so lucky, angelfish.” Shoul- sion of movement. Doyle was turning the mo- der just about dislocating, he managed to get ment on them with the same deliberation he the plug in. “Stupid place to put your sofa, Ray. was turning the sausages, round and round and Almost did meself a mischief there—and why £3£3£3 round. No argument this morning, but some- haven’t the bloody lights come on?” 61 thing, definitely. (In the morning) “Must be like you.” £3£3£3 “Wasn’t sleeping.” Bodie looked at him with reasonable distrust. “Still a kid at heart, then, sitting by the fire Doyle lived down to his expectations. “Must listening for Father Christmas.” He took a step, have a screw loose, mustn’t they?” so that he was standing right behind Doyle, feel- Bodie didn’t even bother to groan at that one. ing the heat from the cooker on his face, the Back eloquently turned to Doyle—all the better heat of Doyle’s body on his chest, the curve of to hide his grin, bad puns being a favourite of Doyle’s buttocks on his groin. “So that you could his—he resolutely began tightening the fairy nick him for B&E, if I know you, eh, copper?” lights, one by one. Red light, blue light, yellow Under the humour, the coils of their friend- light, green light, clear light. Red light, blue light, ship were flexing, like the gyre of snakes in the yellow, green, clear, red… sun. Doyle didn’t answer him, not needing to It went without saying that it was the very bother with words, instead transferring the food last one, the one that Doyle, typically, had to the oven plate, his body brushing against stuffed up the angel’s skirt. “Lovely,” Bodie an- Bodie, neither one of them shying away this nounced, either about the angel’s legs or Doyle’s, time. Bodie reached round Doyle, steadying the coming back over to where Doyle was lounging frying pan while Doyle cracked the eggs into the in front of the fire, “really nice.” His plate was sizzling fat. They stood like that, Bodie ever so nippy hot from the fire, the food still warm, and casually hooking his thumbs into the loops of Doyle had moved aside just enough for him to Doyle’s jeans, his hands resting on Doyle’s sit fully in the heat. Ray was all down his side, flanks where he could feel every minute flex of a separate and distinct heat, not the flickering muscle. (I saw three ships) fumble of the fire, but a steady pulse of warmth, It only lasted another couple of minutes, then changing only when Doyle breathed in and everything was ready and their excuse gone. therefore pressed a fraction more closely. He was There was the usual flurry of gathering cutlery aware of it, with all of his being, only the small-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 est part of his mind being spared for the Doyle took a drink of tea, slurping it as usual, mundanity of eating. The rest of him, as it had the sound achingly charming for its very ugli- been in the kitchen, was inundated with Doyle, ness made appealing by the love Bodie felt for his senses banqueting their fill. He didn’t need this man. So much they’d never, ever spoken, to look—didn’t dare—to see that Ray was look- this love and this attraction not the least of ing at him. He could feel it, with the same acu- them… Too much, to be said all at once; too, ity that he could feel where the rough brush of too much to be heard all at once. So start with Aran left off and the silky spring of arm-hair something that was small, in comparison… (In began. They had worked together for so long, the morning) had been growing closer for so long now that he He answered the question that hadn’t been even knew what question Doyle was going to said yet. “Always get a kick out of turning on ask him. He took his time, mopping up the the lights, you know,” voice low and quiet, as spilled yolk with the crisp fried bread, waiting intimate as the room, as secret as the morning. until the yellow unguent had turned the bread “Every Christmas morning, when I was little, soft, eating it, slowly, giving himself time, think- Mam would come and get me out of bed, wrap ing it over. me up in her dressing gown and I’d smell her As soon as he was finished with his break- perfume. Lavender and roses, that’s what she fast, Doyle would ask him—about turning the wore, always had lavender water and rose soap tree on, about leaving his family early. And it that she’d use for special occasions and would be up to him, to answer or to joke: to Christmas…magic. Everyone else’d still be open them both up to each other or to put them asleep, snoring away, dead to the world, dead back to being just friends who worked together bloody boring, except me and Mam. We’d come in a job that foisted closeness upon them. down the stairs, and I’d be trying not to laugh His choice. (On Christmas Day in the morn- and she’d be whispering ‘sssh!’ at me and then

£3£3£3 ing) she’d open the sitting room door. She always 62 All up to him, on Christmas morning, in a had the fire lit, so that the coal would be crack- £3£3£3 room filled with the glow of the fire and the twin- ing and roaring, and the tree’d be in the win- kling glitter of the tree: the light skittered across dow. Didn’t matter if we were skint, she’d al- tinsel and blown-glass ornaments, then moved ways have that fire lit and the tree up. We’d be to the reflected firelight shining from the Christ- looking at it for days before she’d let us light it mas cards where it melded and mingled before up. Never before Christmas morning, not even returning to glimmer on the tree and begin it all by a minute. She’d sit me in front of the fire, again. Outside, there was nothing but the black- against the fireguard, and then she’d go over and ness of winter’s morning and the coldness of turn the lights on. Pure magic.” He stopped then, starlight shining on frost under the heatless light relaxing into Doyle’s comfortable and comfort- of the streetlamps. And inside: utter silence, ing silence, letting himself go back and remem- apart from the tiny sounds of the living in this ber his mother and the magic she wove for him. room and the even fainter whir of the fans run- A glass was put into his hand, amber whisky ning in the electric fire. catching all the lights, trapping the colours in- He put his plate down; Doyle stretched an side, like his memory. “And once the tree was arm across him, his body touching, taking the lit, we’d get all the parcels Santa’d left for the plate and putting it out of the way, not on the family and arrange them under the tree. She’d carpet where Bodie had left it to be trod on. Bodie let me get one thing out of me stocking and I could almost see the question in the air, and always picked the tangerine. Can still remem- took a sip of tea, frowning, looking at where he ber how that smelled when she’d pull the skin was and what there was outside for him and off for me… And before she had to go and start what there was for him with his family. (And making Dad’s breakfast, she’d sit me by the fire who upon those ships shall be, On Christmas and tell me the Christmas story and we’d sing Day) carols, but dead quiet, so that we wouldn’t wake Closer or farther apart: his choice. (On Christ- anyone else up. Didn’t want to share ‘our’ Christ- mas Day) mas with anyone.” (I saw three ships)

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 He drank some of the whisky, the heat in- seam of Doyle’s denims and it seemed the most side matching the heat from Doyle’s body natural thing in the world that Doyle, in their pressed against him. Then he told Doyle the little cocoon of quiet, captured that hand and most precious secret, the one that anyone else ran his own thumb across its smooth palm. Si- would laugh at, the one that it would be all right lent, Bodie watched as Doyle traced the calluses if Doyle laughed at, because Doyle wouldn’t do left by hours of gun practice and killing, and it for cruelty. “She was beautiful, Mam was. Al- traced the long life-line, going from birth to death ways laughing and glowing and…well, bright. and back again. She wasn’t dull and boring the way the whole More words then, from Doyle, not quiet at family was. She had this thing, every time we all, no sanctimonious pseudo-respect for the put the tree lights on, about being able to watch season, but a voice filled with all the anger and me when I got to see the tree for the first time. bitterness usually kept behind a very high wall. You know how it is when you’re a kid, and the “And my sister, mind you, she’s not much bet- tree goes on? Always catch your breath. She ter, is she? After what she went through, does used to say that was the angel stealing a breath she stay away? Nah, not her. She has to go and to take back up to Heaven, cos the first breath marry a man just like me dear old dad an’ let belonged to the Baby…” him batter her an’ keep her pregnant…” Silence, like snow, blanketing him. A pause, while Bodie reversed the entwining “Why didn’t you stay with them today, Bodie?” of their hands, his fingers soothing Doyle’s pulse, (Come sailing in) easing the heat of anger, fuelling the heat of He shifted, uncomfortable. This was getting arousal. He was waiting, unknowing of the de- too close to actually saying the big things, the tails, simply knowing that there was something ones they weren’t ready to hear yet. But still… still to come, more words that had built up in- “She was the only one who wasn’t dull as side Doyle and were, finally, ready to be spo- ditchwater. Being back with that lot… Christ, ken. £3£3£3 Doyle, watching Cowley wash his socks would “Never told you why I don’t spend Christmas 63 be more fun. And it’s not really my family, if with me mum, ’ave I?” A quick smile tilted up at £3£3£3 you stop and think about it. I’ve been gone for Bodie, warming him, brightening the morning so long, ever since me Mam and Dad died in the despite the darkness of the words. “It’s nothing accident and they moved me and May down to major, Bodie, just that I can’t stand watching London. D’you know that it was when Mam died her with them all, letting them get away with that I ran off to sea? All the excitement and all their crap, letting the shite keep on happening, the fun went when she did, and I couldn’t get when she could stop it, if she’d put her foot her back, so I went running off to find the fun down… Every Christmas, it’s always the same. instead.” He chuckled, echoing Doyle. “Found Place looks like Santa’s Grotto and ends up feel- more than even someone as handsome and as ing like a constipated Scrooge. Dad gets drunk well-endowed as me could handle.” and hits Mum. Jacko gets drunk and hits Peggy. The reference, vaguely sexual though it was, I get drunk and hate them and then I want to hovered between them. Another thing, almost, kill the lot of them…” but not quite, spoken. The words simply sat there, waiting for re- More silence, almost a minute, before Doyle sponse. Doyle stared straight ahead as though said anything. a small part of him was horrified that he’d fi- “It’s funny, innit, Bodie? All the blokes at nally come right out and said it, spoken the work, all our birds, they all think you’re the one unspeakable. Bodie stroked his fingers along the who can do the Gothic Family routine, don’t minor rills of Doyle’s wrist, thinking. they? And all that’s wrong with your lot is they’re “S’pose it’s better to spend Christmas on your boring. And then you’ve got me. Hate my fam- own then, isn’t it? Laze about, watch the Queen ily, ’specially Dad. What he did to my big sister, and old films…” I’ll never forgive him for that.” “Carols from King’s…” (On Christmas Day) It seemed the most natural thing in the world, Both of them were very careful not to men- to Bodie, to stroke his thumb along the side tion the continuing ‘absent-minded’ caresses,

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 nor the physical closeness, nor the tingle of de- comments about Santa ‘coming’ and strange sire rippling through them: these were not the men coming to visit in the night, but the pause kinds of things one mentioned, not the kinds of was as ignored as the stroking fingers had been feelings one spoke about. Instead of speaking, before. Doyle cleared his throat, and Bodie felt they sat, backs to the fire, using silence as their himself to be watched, with himself as the stoat; cloak of excuses to keep on touching, to keep his own gaze returned across the short distance, on wanting. It was all right, as long as it was unblinking and powerful. He knew what he never spoken: nice and uncomplicated, so wanted, knew what he hated giving up, yet simple, with risk of neither rejection nor ruin- again. ation of partnership. Of course, unspoken, it all Doyle was glancing at him, carefully casual. stayed secret, a bond to hold them closer than “Don’t know about you, but I want to go to bed.” mere friendship could. Fear, too, played its part, Bodie blinked at that. Then his eyes were sometimes splaying them apart until they stood unflinching, all his courage piled high to build akimbo, each one proving how much of a man either bonfire or pyre: one or the other—it no he was and how the other was ‘safe’ with him. longer mattered which—but he had to bring it Better that than losing a friend, better that than out, had to let it out to say to Doyle, to show losing a partnership and having to explain the him what they could be. He was too tired of be- sordid disaster to Cowley. ing lonely in crowded rooms, too tired of being But sometimes, for both of them, the ache of alone when he was fucking his girls, and so tired wanting was no sweet secret pleasure, but a that he was exhausted of all fear. He warned bone-numbing pain that worried the spirit un- Doyle with the expression in his eyes, meeting til acrimony stung like smoke. Then the argu- Doyle’s caginess with a cutting honesty of his ments would start, more protective smoke to own. hide what neither one had the courage to say. “Yeh, I’d like to go to bed.” A heartbeat. “With

£3£3£3 Easier by far to face death than to face living you.” (On Christmas Day in the morning) 64 with its risk of having and then losing all that There. Spoken. Finally admitted, the desire £3£3£3 life and loving. between them out in the open, lying there bare Bodie felt the thrum of Doyle’s pulse racing and unadorned. Said, out loud, the secret they’d through him, his thumb pressed to the blue- carried and cradled in stolen moments of sweetness of vein, making the skin there flushed and ness; years of silence broken. bright in the orange glow of the fire and the rain- Doyle simply stared at him until Bodie bow twinkle of the tree. He could even feel the couldn’t face him any longer, turning his gaze moment when the tension grew too much and from the greenness of eyes to the whiteness of the fear began to twist the vulnerable intimacy. wrist, remembering how that pulse had tripped Soon there would be words spoken in haste and and tumbled like a flood. Surely that had been unease, pushing them apart to live and work reason enough to speak, to expose it—but to another day. He shifted, edging away from the what, fear whispered gleefully. To silence. The burn of the fire, a physical rift coming to match words from his tongue and from his heart, and the recurrence of the emotional one. all the words between them this strange morn- Doyle’s voice as he spoke was rough, delib- ing now were made to nothing by the deadening erately gruff, calculated to both dispel the dan- silence of Doyle’s wordlessness. Bodie took a ger of intimacy and the palpable affection they deep breath, preparing the pyre: there were other both knew had been too clearly displayed. It took things that needed saying, then, apologies and a conspiracy to keep such excess silent and farewells and ‘don’t-tell-Cowleys’. unseen, a wilful blindness that was consum- But oh, he should have known better than to mate. expect Doyle to just leap in with a witty come- “Well, you might still be green around the gills back and groping hand. and wanting to stay up to see what Father A long, tapered finger drew a line of desire Christmas looks like coming down the chimney,” from his mouth to his heart, fire lingering be- a breath, giving Bodie the chance to grab the hind. “Better come with me, then,” Doyle said life-saver of their usual back-chat, with bawdy simply, giving no more than that.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 He rose lithely to his feet, walking away with- They were in the bedroom now, the bed loom- out a backwards glance, pulling his sweater up ing behind Doyle, white sweater a heap on the as he walked, the beauty of his back revealed floor, visible only because they had adjusted to by the peeling away of the heavy snow of his the dark. A click and a flood of light, blinded Aran. It took Bodie’s breath away: nudity they him. Then he could see Doyle, and the uncer- had had before, but he’d never dared allow him- tainties that filled his face. So nice to know they self more than a furtive feast, a storing-away- were matched on this. He couldn’t help it—had until-later to be gleaned for every second’s plea- to look. Doyle’s trousers were taut-filled, his sure. It was different, universally different, to arousal blatant and needfilled, mouth- see that bare skin and know that now it was wateringly displayed. He swallowed, once, in there for him to touch and kiss and taste. To see convulsive anticipation, as Ray slowly unzipped, it under him, inches from him, as he sank into fabric parting to show the silk of hair and no Ray’s body, as he took Ray, made him his, made more. They stood there, face to face across the him belong to him, made them belong together… distance that was still between them, both star- His cock was caught uncomfortably in his ing, both looking, neither truly sure of what the underwear, arousal becoming pain. The sound other was searching for. Bodie took a step for- as he began undoing his zip was embarrass- ward, hands at his sides, his body saying what ingly loud, a venality that belonged in the fair- lay behind his words. ground where there were quick knee-tremblers “I want you,” was what his mouth said. I love in the vans of lorries and discarded toffee-apples you, is what his body was saying, arousal on to be found stuck to your shoes afterwards. He display but not a sexual move made. didn’t want to be all common and bestial, not A shout of laughter from Doyle, a flinch of with Doyle, not when this morning was like pain from Bodie, then there were arms hugging magic, a time out of place, filled with dancing him tight, and chilled flesh pressing against the lights and shining fires, pockets of warmth in front of his jumper, a mouth laughing and kiss- £3£3£3 the cold. More than anything, though, he didn’t ing and it dawned on him what the laughter 65 want to put Doyle off: he himself had done this had been: joy. He had just heard Doyle—Ray £3£3£3 many a time, but the subject had always been Doyle—laugh with joy, because he, Bodie, ever so carefully avoided with Ray. Joking had wanted him. There was no laughter in him for been used, as always, to keep the truth unspo- that, but a sweet eruption of happiness, hope ken, to keep the danger restrained, and if Doyle bursting through him to fan his desire even were coming to this virgin, out of nothing more higher. than the emotions that were vibrating and am- “D’you want me, too?” Stupid question, but plifying between them, then he’d not be letting he had to ask, had to hear the words actually his own carnality ruin it. spoken. He wanted more than this once, far more. “Oh, no,” reply laconic and dry, “I do this to Wanted forever, not that he’d say it, not to Ray, everyone—dentist, physio, Cowley…” Then a rib- not when it had taken them three years to fi- cracking hug, a tongue darting into his ear, nally acknowledge the attraction that had been warm breath flowing behind. “Course I want you, beating its wings on them from the second they’d wanted you for ages, just too bloody scared to seen one another. But romantic notions weren’t be the one to say it.” Another laugh, the breath standing up very well to the needs of the body, tickling across Bodie’s neck while hands were not when his cock was screaming at him, half smoothing frantically over his chest, pushing trapped, half free, zip neither up nor down. wool and cotton out of the way. “Bloody typical, Mocking himself for the insecurities that were innit? We’ll go in there, face terrorists, ask crippling him, he finished tugging the zip down, Cowley for a rise, but will we say, ‘oi, mate, I eyes startling up to look at Doyle when he heard like you?’ Nah, not us, not big brave CI5 agents. that earthy laugh. Too busy hiding behind our birds, weren’t we?” “In the same boat as me, then? Thank christ Bodie already knew the answer to that, so he for that—thought I was going to have to take it didn’t waste his energy on saying a thing. In- all slow and romantic.” stead, he withdrew barely far enough to get his

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 sweater and shirt off, arms going round Ray, one else lead, to let someone close enough to dragging him in close, so close, he could feel love him like this. The words were in his mouth, Ray’s heart beating. along with Doyle’s tongue, both filling him until He felt Ray’s breath catch, and found the time he thought he would have to overflow with it to smile, thinking about how childhood’s ech- all. oes can sometimes bring happiness to ease the He put the words into Ray’s mouth. “I love scars. Then there was no time, nothing, for Ray’s you,” he said, not quietly, proud of his own cour- mouth was open on his skin, wetness of tongue age for saying it. playing with his nipples, turning his body into He felt the words being drunk in, felt them a triangle of pleasure: nipples and cock. When reach into Doyle and take root. Felt the comple- he could open his eyes, he saw the tangle of tion tendril out, coming back to touch him in curls, so rich a colour against the palest pink of the trembling caress of Ray’s fingers. his chest, saw the pinkness of Doyle’s tongue Unspoken, but shouted loudly for him to as it danced across the different pinkness of his know. It should have scared him, this loving nipples. The sight engorged him, but left him and revealing, with a veil of seriousness cover- even hungrier, desperate for more of this incred- ing them. No jokes, not this morning, not quite ible beauty, this sight of Ray making love to him. yet. It was all still too new and fragile to risk Oh, christ, yeh. That was what he wanted. jokes and the hiding behind those jokes that Call it for what it was; forget the euphemisms of they would always do, a lifetime’s automatic affection and friendship and lust. Love. That was survival tactics coming to play. No, he’d be seri- what they had here and he was going to say so, ous this morning, and as sombre as a man could was going to bring it out to where they could be when his whole being was singing a pæan to both see it and ‘aah!’ over its perfection. the man kissing him. But then Doyle, eyes slitted, stood straight, His trousers were tangled around his feet and

£3£3£3 hands going with strength and resolve, excit- he was tangled round Ray, so he withdrew back 66 ingly masculine, to hold Bodie’s head, position- into the solitariness of his own body long enough £3£3£3 ing him, keeping him still while Doyle leaned to doff shoes and socks and all the other im- closer, closer, fraction by fraction, time slowed pedimenta that were stopping his skin from to a stop, until he was kissed, and kissing, and knowing Ray’s. It was a shivering pleasure to all the words were driven out of him by the ges- be naked standing in front of Doyle; a quivering ture that washed over and through him, telling excitement to stand over that bed with its him that it was more than just lust for Doyle, sprawled occupant, arousal arrogantly demand- too. It could never be mere lust, not with this ing Bodie’s attention. He gave it, coming for- feeling that was flowing back and forth between ward to kneel on the bed between Doyle’s them, filling up all the little empty hexagons of spreadeagled legs, all his focus on that rigid his mind, the tender touch of flesh soothing his manhood that was thrusting up to meet his soul. It was wondrous to have so much trust mouth, blunt head butting his lips, pre-cum that he could relax into Doyle’s strength, let- making his lips shine as he opened to take Ray ting the situation transmute itself from the fan- inside for the first time anywhere other than in tasies of his mind into the reality that was mak- dreams. ing him so hard. When he’d allowed himself his The taste of him was intoxicating, inciting, guilty secret, lying alone on top of his bed, lights bursting into him like famine faced with feast, out and door locked, it had always been with making his mouth water and his body growl with himself as seducer and controller, bearing the all-consuming need. He fluttered his tongue brunt of the responsibility. But instead, oh, how around the glans, finding the shape, memorising bone-meltingly perfect to have Ray take the the texture, his taste-buds finding the sweet- helm, steering them over to the bed, stripping ness, swallowing, the salt-taste hitting the back Bodie of both clothes and inhibitions. Bodie of his tongue, the moment of discovery stretched couldn’t fill his hands enough with the pliancy so long the two sensations were separate. of Doyle’s flesh nor could he catch his breath Knowing him now, Bodie pushed forward, from the sheer thrill of being able to let some- bringing Doyle in deeper, plundering himself

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 with pleasure. Hands were on the back of his yourself, mate. We,” he nodded at his weeping head, clutching at him; words were in his ears, cock, “are in just a bit of a rush, you know.” enflaming him. To hear that, from Doyle… More Abruptly, Doyle was sitting up, legs and arms than he had expected, more than he had ever wrapped around Bodie, cock digging into Bodie’s expected. Hips shoved upwards, an uncontrol- belly, mouth hot and wet on Bodie’s neck. “’S lable urge answered by the rippling of his throat all right, Bodie,” was whispered to him, “’s all and the massaging of his hands, Doyle’s arse right. Don’t be scared, mate. It’ll work, it’ll all finally his to caress and own. There was a quiver be fine, you’ll see. I’ll make it okay. Just don’t of belly and he knew that Doyle was on the verge, let it stop…” knew the ecstasy that was gathering, his whole And that was almost as thrilling to Bodie as body alive to what Doyle was feeling. the feel of Doyle’s frantic body rubbing against He didn’t want it to be this mundanity of his, this hearing the words spoken and the need sucking cock: there’d been too many of those roughening the voice. And the fear, his own fear already—meaningless blow-jobs in meaningless spoken for him by Doyle—they were in perfect places, rarely a face to go with the cock, never a harmony as always, nothing screwed up by this name. There had to be more, for Doyle, for it to cavalier change. For all they’d let things be tacit mean something. He was afraid in the supersti- between them, for all they’d conspired to keep tious shadows of his mind that if he left it at their attraction secret even from themselves, this, then it would never be any more, would now that it was out he couldn’t be content with degenerate into meaningless blow-jobs in mean- less than everything. “It’s never going to stop, is ingless places. it, Ray? We won’t let it, not ever.” There was the Possession. He needed to possess, or be pos- familiar, uncomfortable feeling of someone walk- sessed. Thy will be done, in Heaven… Yes. The ing over his grave, although this time, it was result would be different, irrefutably, from the only the echo of walking away from his mother’s results intentioned by the prayer that had been grave, and the confused agony of adolescence. £3£3£3 repeated every single night under his mum’s “I think it’d kill me if you let it stop…” 67 watchful silence, but there was depth to the Hands framed his face; eyes burning blind to £3£3£3 meaning now, not merely childhood’s obedience. the world outside stared at him. “We’re going The need for it was cutting fierce: to be pos- together, you and me,” the talisman was spo- sessed by Ray, to give up his sovereignty to the ken, the vow made. “The pair of us, together or one man he would ever trust enough to do that not at all. And don’t you forget it, Bodie.” out of love and not because he lusted after the His own hands were strong upon Ray’s back, feeling. And god forbid, not because he’d been kneading him, needing him, pulling him in close beaten into it by someone stronger, by some for kissing. “Want you to fuck me,” he said, tak- pick-up for the night. Fighting Ray’s hands, ing one of Ray’s hands and leading it down to pushing down on Ray’s hips, he withdrew his his arse, to where the flesh parted. He lowered mouth and sat back, his body curled in tight himself again, trapping Ray’s hand, letting the and tidy amidst the passionate sprawl of Ray’s simple weight of his body keep Ray where he body. He ran his hands the length of Doyle’s wanted him. “Not many I’ve let do that, Ray. trembling thighs, hair springing up to caress None of them I’ve wanted to, not the way I want him, cock straining to find the mastery of his you. Want you in me, where I can own you, hands. He resisted temptation, looking up to mate.” meet eyes ferocious with desire. A bite on his neck, then a sucking kiss and “If you think you’re stopping now,” Doyle he knew he was being marked. He revelled in it, muttered, voice as hard as his cock, “then you’d throwing his head back, wanting the seal that better start running, cos I’ll kill you for it. After would show he had been branded by posses- I’ve fucked you into next month.” sion where it would not show. His blood was “Not stopping, slowing down, that’s all. No rushing up to meet Ray’s mouth and his cock point in hurrying it, is there?” was blindly seeking Ray’s heat, nudging at the Doyle look down, pointedly, at his cock, which flatness of belly and the roundness of cock. All was arching upwards, pointedly. “Speak for his muscles were turning to tense jelly, weak

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 and strong all at once, an overload of sensation ter all, he himself was the only one who had as the tip of Ray’s finger began the claim on his actually dared say it. body, began the new partnership. They’d be He shoved the insidious doubt aside, scorn- equals in this, too, but he wanted to be the first, ing it along with his trepidations for the future. needed to make this commitment, now, before It would all be all right: Ray had said so and he they could find some fear big enough to drive himself was hell-bound and determined that them apart. He leaned back a little more and nothing, neither the world nor themselves, the finger eased into him a little farther, mak- would ruin this. Not now that they had come ing its presence felt. this far. He told himself, as Ray’s fingers were “Just a minute, Bodie. In the drawer, some inside him, touching him with knowledgeable stuff we can use…” perfection, that there would be plenty of time He groaned as his body was abandoned to for Ray to get round to saying it. He’d make sure air so cold and unfeeling in comparison. Then of that… kisses were showering upon him, hands dart- He looked down, to where Ray was kneeling, ing and touching, twisting his nipples until the body taut and trembling, a soft sheen of sweat pleasure made him want to scream. “Getting too diamond-glitter amidst the hair of his chest and close,” he said, straight-arming Doyle, giving belly, face flushed and eyes bright as night-frost. himself time enough to breathe and to let build- But warmer, oh, how much warmer. The heat ing pleasure recede to manageable proportions. from that gaze was like a song to him, ululating Chest heaving, eyes roving addictedly over Doyle, into his soul, saying what he realised needed he stretched out on the bed, not letting go with not a single word. his eyes as he hooked his arms behind his Ray was leaning forward now, cock arching knees. Even over the flush of arousal, he knew forward hungrily, so Bodie squiggled on the bed his face was reddening as he exposed himself, until he could reach down and take hold of the

£3£3£3 his buttocks so white on the blue of the duvet, flesh that would so soon be a part of him. He 68 his arse-hole so pink. Vulnerability flooded luxu- heard Ray’s gasp with his skin, with every nerve £3£3£3 riously through him, and with it, a question. of his body, and felt the leaping pulse of desire “You ever done this before, Ray?” fill his hand where it was overflowing with Ray’s A confident grin. “Yeh. With a couple of birds, cock. Then he saw his own feral grin mirrored and a couple of blokes, back when I was on the on Ray’s face as skin touched skin, as hard- Drug Squad and going through my wild and ness touched softness, as one flesh yielded to woolly days. Told you it’d be all right, Bodie. another. There was the expected moment of dis- Know what I’m doing.” Index finger pressing in, comfort, but his body remembered how to let a slick-coated with gel, “Know how to make it feel man in and his mind was desperate for that, for great as well.” the having of Ray Doyle inside himself and part A second finger was pressed in, and Bodie of himself where he could never be taken from relaxed, letting the muscle stretch, enjoying the him, not by gun, nor villain, nor their own fears. feeling and the intimacy. How much better it He watched Ray’s face, enraptured by the was to have Ray doing this instead of himself, blurring of his features, until it dawned on his twisted and awkward, pretending that the hands passion-fuddled brain that it wasn’t Ray who touching him were not his own, but Doyle’s, that was blurring, but himself, becoming lost in all the hand that trembled on the skin of his arse that Ray was doing to him and in what he, in was Doyle’s, not his own. But the reality was so his own turn, was doing to Ray. There was a much more, so much farther beyond even what weight on him, sharp hipbones digging into his he had ever dared dream. hamstrings, a pressure as pointed and hard as He murmured approving pleasure at the the cock inside him. His body clung, inside, as touch, encouraging with both movement and Ray pulled out, his nerves weeping for their loss, smile, his eyes half-closed as he watched the until Ray plunged back inside, wiping their tears rapt expression on Ray’s face. He felt rapt him- with an influx of pleasure. He wrapped his arms, self, and wrapped, the love between them trans- tightly, around Ray, hugging him close, forcing lucently tangible—even if only half-spoken. Af- him inside, to stay there, to bond to him, to make

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Gael X. Ile £3£3£3 I SAW THREE SHIPS £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 their flesh fused into one single being. Every his own loneliness at what was, for Doyle, the time Ray breathed, he felt it, chest hair tickling most painful of seasons. Bodie was shivering his nipples, balls stroking the exquisitely sen- now, but no longer from the overload of plea- sitive skin of his buttocks. There were lips kiss- sure. Part of it, at least, was from the bitterness ing him, tongue caressing him, words whisper- of reality’s icy touch: all very fine and well to be ing in his ear. suffused with romantic notions with Ray inside “Love you,” he heard said, in Ray’s voice, from him, with Ray’s face buried against him, with Ray’s mouth, coming into him. “Love you…” Ray’s words flooding into him even as his life- He moved them, surging upwards, no longer seed had. But now, in the grim greyness, with ‘Midas’-ing up treasure, but living it, loving it, the faintest hiss of early morning traffic this craving the movement of flesh inside him, bump- Christmas morning, it was different. He found ing hard and delectably where it made his plea- himself slapping sheets of steel all around, build- sure soar up through his cock. Ray’s belly was ing a bunker to defend what had been so thor- rippled with muscle and slickened by sweat as oughly exposed, trying desperately to hide the his cock-head butted there, snub head trans- humiliating extremes of his need and love be- mitting ecstasy to every fibre of Bodie’s being. fore Doyle could turn away, or turn it to joking There was a storm gathering in them, waves of or pretend that it had all been nothing more delight and fire blustering round them, fireworks than fucking and all the whispered words had of pleasure and slashes of lightning that made been pretty lies to make his bed-mate yielding him shake with the prescience of orgasm. and co-operatingly spread-legged, sweet noth- He knew it was going to be over soon, from ings to get a randy man something… the burning pleasure in his belly and from the Hands, touching his shoulders, tentatively, rasping gasps that were breathing against his as if aware of the pre-fab armour plating that neck where Ray had buried his face, sweat drop- had been thrown up with such despairing alac- ping wetly onto Bodie’s own damp skin. He slid rity. £3£3£3 his hands lower to cup buttocks that were hot It was, it seemed, one of those times to be 69 and slick and hollowing with every pumping eternally grateful for the rapport their vicious £3£3£3 thrust into him, and it was as he touched, hard work had forged between them, for when Doyle and hungry, one promissory finger to the tiny finally spoke, it was to say the only words that circle of muscle there, that he felt the splash of could stop this dream from becoming nightmare. cum inside him, felt Ray fill the endless depths “Never said that to anyone before, mate, ’d of his body, casting out loneliness and demons you know that? Never told anyone I loved them and insecurities alike. He arched himself up, and meant it before, y’see.” A sudden grin, bright his own body spasming, dissolving, and blend- in the gloom of winter’s morning. “Never ex- ing with Ray’s, fluid commingling, joining, and pected to have a chance to say it to you, either.” reforming, making him no longer alone. (And all the bells on Earth shall ring, on Christ- Sleep, came: brief, rejuvenating, and dream- mas Day) Bodie rolled over, caressing Ray’s body less from the perfection that he’d had. He was anew, letting the love show, unblinkered and warm and comfortable, as secure as a child unfettered. when he awoke to a tangle of limbs and the “Hear that?” Doyle said, as pealing bells be- aroma of sex and masculinity. Absently, not gan sounding from the chapel up the hill, and quite awake, he stroked his hand down Ray’s fainter, sweeter, from the church over beside the back, the faint rime of sweat tipping his fingers. shops. “Always reminds me of that old carol— Smiling, he remembered the elation of having you know the one they make you sing in Pri- Ray inside him, both of them lost to anything mary School, ‘I saw three ships come sailing in’. and everything but each other. Can never remember past that bit, though.” And then reality re-commenced, with its “Yeh, it was on the wireless on my way over pointed comments on strained muscles and here earlier. And all the bells on Earth shall ring, aching backs, of cold nipping at toes and chill- on Christmas Day, on Christmas Day. And all ing sweat-damp skin and post-coital reactions the bells shall ring on Christmas Day in the of a man who had, perhaps, been seduced by morning’.” He wasn’t really singing it, more

I saw three ships come sailing in, On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day; I saw three ships come sailing in, On Christmas Day in the morning.

And all the bells on Earth shall ring, On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day; And all the bells on Earth shall ring, On Christmas Day in the morning.

for Snow White

£3£3£3 70 £3£3£3

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A SHILLING SHOCKER Yes, the next story is a bit of a shocker. We doubt that anyone has really dealt with this theme in this particular way in Pro- fessionals stories. It was originally inspired by the common enough Bodie and Doyle tale which, in its search for romance, feminizes Doyle. Fair enough: a love story is romantic and it is often easier to believe the storyline if the characters follow familiar patterns. Thus, Bodie is given the ‘masculine’ role of the couple and Doyle the ‘feminine’ one. ‘In Flagrante Delicto’ is M. Fae Glasgow’s reaction. She takes the idea of feminiz- ing Doyle and sets off in a very different direction. Undoubt- edly, the result will not please all readers, so don’t worry if you include yourself in that category. But do take the time to read the story; it is worth the effort. And remember M. Fae Glasgow does not wish to convert you to her way of thinking with this piece. It is only an exploration of human desire and sexuality. It is only a what if… IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO M. FAE GLASGOW

£3£3£3 IN THE MIRROR, HIS IMAGE LICKED ITS LIPS, just as he the car, balancing carrier bags and tin-foil boxes, 71 did, with lascivious detail and solitary pleasure, trying not to spill his take-away or crack the wine £3£3£3 the moistness cool and tingling on his skin. His on the car door. It was freezing tonight, and after hands, on his body and in the mirror, caressed spending three days in the wilds of Bristol, he skin and teased nipples, making small round couldn’t face sitting in his ice-cold flat waiting peaks that crested with enjoyment. Balancing his for the heating to dispose of the ice on the inside weight carefully, he thrust his hips forward, ap- of his windows. Ray’s place, now that would al- preciating the way his erection tented the black ready be warm, condensation streaking the win- of his underwear, every inch of him lovingly de- dows. No heart-felt shrieks of agony when bare lineated, his balls heavy and oval, his cock long feet hit the linoleum on the bathroom floor, not and faintly, so very faintly, damp at the tip. His in Doyle’s flat. And hot water—gallons upon gal- fingers trembled as he lifted the waistband away lons of piping hot water, scalding, steaming in from its clinging around his hips and he arched the bathtub, Ray’s collection of fancy natural loo- his back as those fingers teased tousled hair and fahs and sponges just waiting to slough the grime sensitised skin without once touching the ach- off him. Knowing perfectly well that this was the ing need of his prick. He was too aroused to make Friday night Ray had tickets to take—Pamela? it last, standing here watching himself in the mir- Sharon? Sue? the blonde tennis player, what- ror, so he slowed down his self-stimulation, paus- ever her name was—to the theatre, Bodie let him- ing, flattening his hands on the fabric to frame self in the front gate, cursing as he dropped his cock, rotating his hips with active memory of Doyle’s evening paper, cursing even more when how his muscles slid and bunched when he was he dropped the pineapple fritters on top of it. fucking. Eyes wide and clear, he stared at him- Eventually, his repertoire of swearing well aired, self, flaunting his masculinity, revelling in it. he got the glass door opened.

No-one could ever possibly recognise the tune He walked along the hall, going into the bath- Bodie was whistling, as he levered himself from room, looking at himself in the small mirror

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 there, then going back to the bedroom. There He reached under the thin strip of elastic, one was no reason for it, save that he loved the feel- fingertip stroking the moist tip of his cock as ing of walking when he was like this, and that it the tip of his tongue stroked his lip, flesh moist- extended the pleasure for him. He gloried in the ening flesh. Slowly, with infinite care, he slid roll of movement and the slight bobbing of his the elastic down so that his cock peeped out, prick as his steps carried him the length of his winking at him, giving him the come on, entic- corridor, fabric caressing him with minute ing him, inciting him to do more. Underwear frissons. Too aroused to wait for the mirror, his was slid lower, until the elastic was under his hands were busy on himself even as he walked, prick, lifting it up, buoying it to stand free and going from room to room upstairs, unwilling to proud in the air. He narrowed his eyes, all the risk being seen through the wide windows down- better to seduce himself, all the better to focus stairs. His music was blaring, sexual beat puls- his gaze on nothing more than the pulse of his ing into him through his tightly-shod feet, ris- blood through his cock. The priapic mouth was ing up to fill his cock. Every inch of the upper drooling with anticipation, awaiting the touch storey of the house was covered by his languid of his hand, the tight haven of his fist. He obeyed tread, as he experienced each room at the height the imperiousness of desire, conceding the in- of his sexual heat. There was a trickle of sweat effectuality of the intellect when defied by the down his spine, absorbed by his underwear, the libido, giving his cock his hand, stroking him- dampness making the cloth cling to him all the self. more voraciously. The food didn’t even get to the table, most Once a policeman, always a policeman, Bodie of it consumed on the run in the kitchen whilst thought to himself, dumping the stuff in the catching up on the newspapers that Doyle had kitchen, glancing around at the empty room that left on the worktop. The white wine he had

£3£3£3 was made all the emptier by the blast of music bought as olive branch for using Doyle’s flat 72 and the blaze of lights. He shook his head at with such impunity was still chilled from the £3£3£3 the absent Doyle, grinning at that instinct that journey from Oddbins to here, but he put it in made him leave his house looking as if there the fridge so that it would be the perfect end were a crowd living there, should he need to go to Doyle’s evening—might even be enough for out. Doyle, for reasons never explained to Bodie, Doyle to unbend enough to tell him a juicy hated coming back at night to a house that was detail or two the morning after. He stretched starkly devoid of life, and would leave radio or tiredly, all the aching bones of his back click- TV on, lights bright, often even the upstairs light ing and clacking at him to protest the cold, and bedside radio blasting. Bodie shrugged off the long drive and the even longer hours he’d Doyle’s little foibles: he had enough oddities of been working. Oh, well, there was Doyle’s his own that Doyle put up with. Such as com- bath, with all-natural bath salts that had been ing over to his friend’s flat in that friend’s ab- known to work miracles, even to the shocking sence, without invitation, to use his dishes and magic of easing the agonies of Macklin’s ‘re- his heating and his bath, just to save himself a fresher’ course. The house was warmer than spot of discomfort. Well, Doyle wouldn’t mind— an Indian summer, the perfect climate for a as long as he was well out of the way before winter night’s bath. He started up the stairs, Doyle and the lovely Debi or Pam or whoever not bothering to go against Doyle and turn off returned from the theatre. It was the one thing either lights or cassette, plodding upwards they never shared, for all their backchat and with no thought in him bar the hedonistic lure intimacy: apart from the most general enqui- of Doyle’s bath. ries and the most specious of slagging, sex lives were taboo. Two fingers scissored over the head, holding the foreskin, sliding it back and forth, revealing The mirror loved him as much as he loved himself to his voracious vision, hiding himself himself, casting his reflection back at him clad for seductive appeal; he licked his lips, arching in the golden glow of the small bedside lamp. his hips forward, his free hand sliding round to

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 rub his own flank, fingers seeking out the small self in the mirror, he began moving his hand hole that lay there, still covered by the softness faster and faster. of fabric. With a muffled curse and red face, he got the It was typical of Doyle, who worried about sweater off at long last, by the simple expedient ecology, waste, coal-burning power plants and of pulling the damned thing off with no regard atomic produced electricity to leave every light for painstakingly knitted pullovers. Balling it up in the house on and the place heated enough to in his hand, he went to Doyle’s room to borrow wilt a hot-house orchid. He had already dumped a dressing gown for after his bath. Hand on his jacket in the kitchen and now he was work- door— ing on tugging a recalcitrant sweater off over his head. A bath was definitely required: nude —oh, yeh, that was how he liked it, standing was the only way a man could be comfortable in front of the mirror in privacy and secrecy, in this cloying heat. pleasuring himself as no-one else ever did, and his hand was so perfect and he was going to He rotated his hips, mimicking the move- come, he was coming, coming— ments of fucking, watching with eyes glazed as his cock thrust into his fist, into the tight tun- —and saw Doyle. nel of flesh, lunging forward towards his reflec- Who was standing in front of the mirror, cock tion as if that rampant cock was going to fuck hard as steel and sticking out from his body his reflection. He was fucking himself, mouth like a weapon. Shocking, yes, to come across a open, guttural sounds of pleasure coming from friend in flagrante delicto. him, one hand pulling on his nipple, the other More than shocking to come across his friend hand pulling on his cock, until his whole body standing there like that, the symbol and per- was a peak, a mountain of pleasure piercing the sonification of manhood jutting so proudly from £3£3£3 distance that separated himself from his re- him, large and thick and hard, startling in con- 73 flected self. trast to the slim masculinity of hips. £3£3£3 More shocking still in contrast to the black His watch had managed to get itself caught silk underwear. Women’s underwear, black silk in the rib of his sweater and he was tied up like panties pulled down low to frame the promi- a Bavarian pretzel, struggling to free himself nence of masculinity, the merry widow loosely from the prickling heat of wool, the heavy Aran laced with chest hair peeking free. Black stock- he’d borrowed from Murphy stifling him, blind- ings, thigh high on legs that looked suddenly ing him as he found his way around from habit. slim and shapely, moulded by the highness of heel and the shimmer of patent leather. Sweater He was going to come soon, soon, but slowly. dropped and forgotten on the carpet, Bodie No hurry, no rush. He loved loving himself, tak- stumbled to a halt, suddenly needing to lean ing the time to make it extra special, as he had against the door jamb, knees shocked into weak- tonight, with his lies to everyone about the the- ness by the sight in front of him. Doyle, his part- atre or working, depending upon which sphere ner Raymond Doyle, in drag. of his life the person inhabited. He let his cock Eyes bright and pupils dilated, cock still rock go, running just the very tip of his pinkie along hard and seeping, Doyle turned to face him, it, gathering the droplets at the crown, bringing hand still blurring in motion, the cum spurting them to his lips to taste his own seed, his own from him in arcing jets to land not on himself in life-force. Languidly, he licked his fingers clean, the mirror, but uselessly, unwanted, on the car- stroking the wet hand down his chest, through pet between him and Bodie. the glistening hair to close, once more, on his “Christ, Ray…” was all Bodie could say, head cock, the touch enough to cast aside any thought full of the cotton wool of sudden shock. He was of taking it slow and easy. He was hungry now, prepared, excessively well prepared by a life in starving, wanting it hard and fast and now, the military and in violence, but this was be- there’d be time for more later. Staring at him- yond him. He’d had no inkling, no idea. Hadn’t

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 even expected Ray to be home, let alone stand- “You’re a fucking security risk, that’s what ing there in fish-net stockings and high-heeled you are. I mean, look at you!” It was as if he shoes, a fairy queen fallen from the pages of a listened to himself for he did, suddenly, look at kinky magazine. Doyle. He did, suddenly, stop averting his eyes. Doyle’s voice showed the signs of orgasm, He did, suddenly, acknowledge that not looking even as his body did not, cock staying tumes- wouldn’t make it all go away. “Look at you,” he cent, still arching away from his body, pushed said differently, his chaos audible. “What’s this forward by his panties the way breasts are by get up supposed to be?” underwire bras. “What the fuck are you doing Doyle looked down at himself, at the ultra- here?” femininity of his underwear and the ultra-mas- “I think I’m the one who should be asking culinity of his cock. His first impulse was to let you that, Doyle. What’s…” he waved his arm Bodie have it, right between the eyes, pay him in general distress, as he took in more than back for that Mary Whitehouse tone, but he bit just the sight of Doyle. “What is all…this?” He those words off, controlling his temper, turning stared in helpless confusion at the things left it down to a low simmer. It was tempting, so lying in careful ritual around the bedroom, tempting, to tell Bodie the whys and wherefores, slowly yielding up the support of the door to or at least those he’d been able to decipher him- walk over to the bedside unit, pointing an ac- self. To metaphorically lean on Bodie’s shoul- cusing finger at the plastic shape that was ly- der, as he had the night he had confessed to his ing there already glistening with some form of constant battle not to enjoy the kill, confessed lubricant. the lone thing which more than any other kept Doyle answered the question in a monotone, him moral and different from the people he giving away nothing, only the most basic of an- killed. “Why do I do all this?” quietly, almost as swers. “I’d’ve thought that was obvious.” Then if he were alone and musing aloud to the ac-

£3£3£3 the echo of Bodie’s voice began its discolouration coutrements littering the bedside table. “I hon- 74 of Doyle’s, accusation and betrayal of trust lay- estly don’t know, Bodie. Don’t know why it £3£3£3 ering everything granite grey stone. “It’s a butt- started. Just—it makes me feel more mascu- plug or a bung-plug or an arse-plug, depending line.” Without conscious thought, he tightened on what you fancy calling it.” the ribbons that laced the bustier together, “But why, that’s what I want to know!” catching Bodie’s reaction out of the corner of There was something in that plaintive cry, his eye. some unspoken ‘how could you do this to me’ “Prancing around in a black corset and frilly that pierced Doyle’s skin, something that knickers makes you feel more masculine? You smacked of a Brontë heroine. Something that expect me to believe codswallop like that? And carried with it the carrion stench of judgement. for god’s sake, cover yourself up. Here, get this “What’s it to you? You weren’t exactly invited, on you.” were you, Bodie? It’s not as if I asked you over The familiar old blue dressing gown was for tea and then brought out the whips and shoved at him, with Bode staring at the drawn chains.” curtains where the windows were hiding with “And are you into that as well?” the rest of the world. If the words and the look Definite this time, and that tone made it hadn’t helped, then the cover shoved at him sound as if Doyle had been judged and found positively hindered. “Codswallop? What do you wanting. “And what if I am?” he asked, walk- know about why I do this? Well, Bodie? If the ing forward, making it a point of pride that he look on your ugly mug’s anything to go by, you did nothing to hide himself, that he showed wouldn’t understand even if I did explain it to that he was not ashamed, despite the implica- you.” tion in Bodie’s voice and the distaste on his “How can you expect me to understand the face. “What if I like pain as well as silk, eh, man I trust to watch my back dressing up like a Bodie? What if I like to hurt people? You going woman? How the hell am I supposed to go in on to run and tell Cowley what a naughty little some job when my life’s on the line, and all I’ve boy I am?” got to back me up is a fucking queen?”

“I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of, Bodie.” self. You’re standing there, holier than thou, £3£3£3 His tone warned Bodie to back off in the dan- passing judgement on me, and for what? Some- 75 gerously calm voice reserved for the streets. thing harmless, something that I get a kick out £3£3£3 Bodie scanned him from the roots of his of. Something I need, Bodie. And as for me be- hair to the tips of his high heels, pausing at ing a liar, what’d you expect me to tell you? Pass the corselet. “Oh no? Nothing to be ashamed the sugar and oh, by the way, I like to dress up of?” He, pointedly, did not look down at Doyle’s in women’s underwear? And what would you groin, where cock still arched in the mindless have done if I had told you? I’ll tell you,” he pleasure of afterglow. “This is something to stalked closer, exuding the danger of an animal be proud of, then? Going to add it to your list trapped in its lair, backed into a corner, “you’d’ve of skills for the old man, are you, right after done exactly what you just did. You’d’ve gone your talent for fucking women. Or is that a spare and started looking at me funny and jump- lie, too?” ing to all sorts of stupid conclusions. You’d’ve “Don’t you go calling me a liar—” let it ruin the partnership, Bodie, that’s what “Why not? Eh, mate? What else would you you’d’ve done and that’s why I never told you.” call it, going on double dates with me and my “I’d never ruin the partnership, Ray.” He bird. Look at you, for fuck’s sake! Are you going looked at him again, this time not looking away to stand there and tell me you’re straight as a from his cock. “It’s you that’s doing that, sun- die? Well, why not? I mean, why stop lying now, shine.” why break the habit of a whole fucking part- “Oh, I’m not going to let you get away with nership.” that, Bodie. You—” “I haven’t been lying to you, Bodie, I just “Just tell me one thing,” Bodie broke in, sud- haven’t been telling you all the truth. Anyway, denly desperate to know, suddenly desperate to you’ve admitted you’ve a few kinks of your own, get out of there, away from this new version of Bodie, so what makes them all right and mine Ray, away from the insidious lure of underwear sick? Cos that’s what you think, isn’t it? Go on, and high heels, of stockings and black lace, of admit it, it’s written all over your face anyway. masculinity counterpointing femininity. “Just

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 tell me this: are you straight, Ray? Yes or no, think, couldn’t work out what he felt, save the that’s all I want to know.” outrage and the betrayal. Couldn’t get rid of the Doyle paused a second too long, the answer sight of Ray dressed like that… nothing so simple as a yes or no, nothing that could be explained with such a paucity of words. As the door slammed, he slumped, sitting on “You should have told me.” And it was loud the edge of the bed, leaning forward, listening in the room that the usual ‘mate’ or ‘sunshine’ as the car revved and raced away, hurrying or even ‘you randy toad’ was missing from Bodie. Bodie as far and as fast as he could. Doyle wasn’t “You should have told me.” surprised, had always known that this would “Why? So you could do this to me sooner happen if Bodie had ever found out. He had even rather than later? What do you think I am?” known what his own reaction would be, had had “A fucking queer, that’s what. A kinky, pa- no doubts that he would react with defensive thetic bastard who gets his kicks in a sick, dis- anger to Bodie’s unnerved judgement. But still, gusting way.” being prepared for it hadn’t lessened the horror Doyle reeled as if struck, his face going whiter of Bodie’s reaction, of watching Bodie shut him than if a blow had landed. He turned away, the out. And no-one could ever be prepared for the muscles on his back bunching and clenching moment of betrayal when friend became out- over the low line of lace trim that framed the raged moralist. The anger and the pain erupted, bulk of musculature. His breath was audible, his arm flashing overhead, the dildo slamming ragged, the sound either of incipient fury or into the far wall, where it lay on the carpet, tears. Bodie stood stock still, as shocked by unwanted, unneeded, rejected. Like Doyle him- Doyle’s distress as by the real pain behind his self… own words. Then: Doyle’s long fingers settling the black underwear, the glint of a ring bright Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. Noth-

£3£3£3 on his hand. Stockings were straightened, rump ing to tell of what had happened the night be- 76 presented to Bodie in insulting disdain, as if fore. Nothing to show that they had ever so much £3£3£3 Doyle were alone, as if there were no one else in as met each other before this time of staticky the room to be considered. Then: the largest of silence. They were so physically close to each the dildoes was picked up, and the jar of gel, other, hedged in by the metal walls of the car the lid being unscrewed, shouting louder than that raced on hissing tyres over the frosty road, any word ever could that Bodie was cut out, the world outside obliterated by their motion, removed, no longer existed. That Bodie had no the buildings and the trees elongated and right to judge, that Bodie had no right to dic- twisted by speed. And in the smallness of the tate. That Bodie had no right to be here. car, Bodie felt that they would be closer emo- The feeling in the pit of his belly he named tionally if he were here on Earth and if Doyle disgust and revulsion and fury, but still, when were up there, on the Morning Star. Perspex ri- he ran from that room, it wasn’t just Doyle he gidity towered between them, invisible, intan- was fleeing, running off into the cold, bath and gible, measurable only in the dimension of dam- sweater forgotten, no room in his mind for any- age to what both had thought to be a friendship thing other than finding out that Doyle, his best that transcended mere mortal details and the friend, the only person he truly trusted come keeping of a few secrets. hell or high water, Raymond Doyle a drag queen. They were comrades, brothers-in-arms, al- Ray, lying to him, deceiving him, tricking him. lies against both the evil and the righteous of Ray, letting him camp it up with him, touching this world, caught in the limbo of those who do him, being close, sharing rooms, sharing beds, wrongs in order to protect right, back to back, sharing birds, sharing their lives and all the guarding each other always, never even need- while the bastard had been laughing up his ing to speak. sleeve at him, going around with a secret life But on this morning, there was need to speak, that he had kept from Bodie. A secret without but neither had any words. Bodie didn’t know justification, a secret held close and deliberately quite where to look, nor where to cast his silent, a secret that shattered them. He couldn’t thoughts. He couldn’t even bring himself to look

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 at Doyle who was beside him in his usual un- ies. He stared, realising there was no raised line tidy sprawl, for all the world as if nothing about to betray frilly knickers, but that didn’t mean him had changed. Apart, of course, the clothes, that Doyle wasn’t wearing women’s underwear, they had changed all right, he thought with bit- did it? Something plain and tasteful, pink silk, terness, seeing with utter clarity, Doyle as he perhaps, the kind with a lace inset at the front? had been the night before, dressed as if he were He couldn’t help it, couldn’t clear it from his some woman epitomising their culture’s idea of mind. And look at those shoes: boots, stacked feminine sexuality. heel, nowhere near as high as the black patent How could he do it? That was the thought leather of the night before, but still high, higher that ran through his mind incessantly, ‘to me’ than many women wore. Was that why Doyle whispering counterpoint like decay on a shroud. wore them, and not for fashion? Not for the pur- Doyle, for his part, seemed engrossed in the poses of intimidating would-be informants, but banality of scenery whizzing past at breakneck for the purpose of continuing into daylight what speed, the car hastening them on as if it knew he did in the secrecy of the dark? Doyle was how much these calm-faced strangers wanted really going up those stairs quickly, Bodie hard to escape each other. Changing gear, Bodie’s pushed to keep up with him, but he was deter- hand inadvertently brushed Doyle’s knee, mined. He wasn’t going to be bested by a drag shocking his hand away, the gear box grinding queen, not even if it was the man whom he had its protest at his clumsiness. Doyle looked at conceded was his better in many things. That him then, a single searing blaze of his eyes, was yesterday, before he’d found out the truth. cauterising Bodie’s wounds before they had a It was different now, even if Doyle refused to chance to bleed the poison out. Bodie felt his concede that, even if Doyle insisted on continu- anger crawl up his spine to knot in his shoul- ing this charade of machismo. The sun from the ders, mean-spirited voices devilling his mind half-landing window got tangled in Doyle’s hair, with the replaying of that look from Doyle, and bringing out the autumn gold, gilding the curls. £3£3£3 how it was precisely the same look of betrayed The long curls, Bodie found himself thinking. 77 contempt he had loosed on his partner the night Curls and long hair that looked perfect with £3£3£3 before. If Doyle felt now as he had then, then corset and stockings, hair that could pass for a there was nothing that could possibly be said woman’s, given the right accessories. And was between them, no point in trying to break past that why Doyle defied Cowley and wore his hair this icy barrier that loomed between them, cut- long enough that an opponent would be able to ting off the air, making the car a stifling coffin grab it and use it as weapon against him? As where what they had been together was buried Bodie, in his shock, was doing? in silence. Top floor, Cowley’s office, Doyle going in as if Even at HQ, Doyle exited the car without a this was just another day… word, as he had a thousand times before, but If Bodie didn’t stop looking at him as if he then, it had always been a companionable si- were a cross between a child-killer and a freak, lence, or a distracted silence, or even an angry he was going to belt him one. It had been hor- silence, revenge for some harm done him. But rible in the car, with Bodie sitting there as if the this morning, it was the silence of distance, of world had turned into a nightmare while they an ending. Bodie was outraged: after all, who slept. He couldn’t understand it: after all, it was it who had been caught done up like some wasn’t as if either one of them had changed, French tart? Who was it who had lied, who was was it? All that had happened was that Bodie it who had betrayed whom? Who, indeed. had found him out, and not in the best of ways. Through the swing doors, flash of their ID’s, He could kick himself for last night, for getting past the lift that was out of order again, up the so tied up in his pleasures that he hadn’t even stairs, Doyle running up them two at a time, heard someone coming into his house. He hadn’t Bodie coming behind. And watching, and won- wanted Bodie to find out, and most especially dering. Watching Doyle’s denimed rump, won- not by walking in on him—while he was actu- dering what lay underneath, whether it was the ally coming, for god’s sake. If he’d been trying simple normality of Y-fronts or the frill of pant- for a worst case scenario, that was second from

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 the top. At least Bodie’d come in last night and the one thing. It was a tiny mark, one he’d taken not last week when he’d had that bloke over. to be a freckle, something he’d not noticed be- Christ, but that would’ve been bad. Would’ve fore, for there were so many other parts of Doyle made last night look like Mary Poppins’ jolly that drew the attention: his eyes, with their fire holidays. But today was bad enough, with Bodie or their bleakness; his hair that carried with it sitting beside him like that, looking as if he’d always a lingering hint of freedom, of wildness; just swallowed a rat that was eating him alive, the cheekbone that had never been explained, from the inside out. It was making Doyle angry, not even on the medical forms, being dismissed this martyred attitude of Bodie’s, making him as ‘facial trauma’ and nothing more; the mouth furious. Where did Bodie get off passing judge- that could range from sweetness to a gutter flow- ment on him? Wasn’t any of his business, was ing with sewage. So much else, then, that would it? Wasn’t as if they were lovers or anything, camouflage the mark—unless it was that it was was it? new. That was possible, after last night, if Doyle No, he answered himself with a wash of sad- were getting more and more into…that kind of ness. It wasn’t as if they were lovers or ever likely stuff. He looked again, making sure. Yes. Defi- to be. He’d always suspected that Bodie, all ap- nitely, unmistakeably, the tiny mutilation of a pearances to the contrary notwithstanding, had pierced ear. A bubble of hysteria was rising up the sexual morals of his lower middle-class back- again, and he almost got to his feet to circle ground, complete with all the lessons he’d Doyle as he had the exhibits in the Black Mu- learned in Sunday school before ever he’d had seum in New Scotland Yard. Fascinating, but a chance to understand the world and make up morbid, the desire to see that which we can’t his own mind. He’d never thought the larking understand. about was anything more than that, which is That to which, perhaps unwillingly, we are why sometimes, it got right up his nose so much. drawn. He found himself wondering if both ears

£3£3£3 To tease like that, with never the possibility of were pierced, like a woman, or only one, like a 78 following through was bloody typical of a man queer. Or gay, if he was to use the new termi- £3£3£3 who claimed live and let live then had run nology. It didn’t do to call what was queer queer, screaming like a nun when he’d seen Doyle last just as it didn’t do to call a spade a spade. Un- night. At that moment, his train of thought was der the drone of Cowley’s voice and the gimlet interrupted by an almost involuntary tighten- glower of Doyle’s stare, he sat there, in the dry ing of Bodie’s body and a muffled exclamation. overheatedness of Cowley’s office, watching the “What’s the matter with you now, Bodie? pot plant wilt, thinking about Doyle, about all You’ve been sitting there like a great lump and I the things he knew about this man. All the swear you’ve barely heard a single word I’ve girls… Double dates, one couple in the bedroom, said.” one in the sitting room, sound travelling, the “Em, no, sir, I heard you. Talk to MacLean, murmurs and moans of sex unmistakeable, cy- find out where the drugs are coming from, who’s cling round and round. There was no doubt getting the money and whether or not that there: Doyle had had sex with women, so he money’s then being sent overseas or kept here wasn’t queer. And last night, he hadn’t actually in Britain.” Even as he finished speaking, he said he was, had he? So what if he was just one was thanking his lucky stars that years in the of those men you read about, what was the name Services had taught him how to listen to com- they had? Cross-dressers, he thought, while manding officers while his mind was a million answering Cowley’s question about the capa- miles away. He was still, on some subliminal bilities of the old Chieftan tank. Yeh, cross-dress- level, listening to Cowley, aware of the keen ob- ers. They weren’t queers, didn’t fancy men at servation in those pale eyes, aware that he was all. They were just normal blokes who had to going to have to watch himself or he’d have some dress like that to express the other sides of their very uncomfortable questions to answer. But in natures. Not lesser men because of that, of the forefront of his mind, there, where it showed course not. And he’d worked with Doyle for on his face, there, where it had alerted Doyle years, been friends with him for ages, he’d’ve who was staring at him, there was really only known if Doyle hadn’t been a real man, wouldn’t

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 he? It would show, the same way it had that It did. Funny, how until last night he hon- gunner sergeant he’d been stuck in billet with. estly hadn’t realised just what Bodie had be- The briefing was over and blessedly, Cowley come to him. He was everything, excluding lover, had split them up for the day, Bodie being sent and that absence was Bodie’s choice, not off to pump his old army cronies and contacts Doyle’s. That desire had been recognised and for leads on who was getting their hands on the accepted a long, long time before, then put aside weapons, Doyle to check with his informants to be brought out only when the temptation of from all the way back to his drug squad days— daily living alongside Bodie became too much always supposing any of them were left alive by to ignore. Then, he would lock his doors, set their habits. He heaved a sigh of relief, getting the lights and the music, and make love to his out of that office and out of the aura of hostile body, pretending that it was Bodie loving him, confusion that was still bleeding from Bodie. And or that it was Bodie watching him, not merely away, too, from the far too keen perception of his own reflection. Only when he couldn’t deny his boss. The last thing he needed was Cowley the loneliness any more, or when he had come asking questions. perilously close to responding to Bodie’s naïf teasing. The bathwater was cooling now, his skin He was sore from the feet up, a direct line of beginning the prickle of goose-pimples, the un- pain from his heels all the way up his back. easy restlessness sinking into his marrow. He Hands pressing into his coccyx, he stretched, scrubbed himself viciously with the soft towel, easing some of the ache out. A bath was won- understanding the urge that drove some people derfully appealing, hot water, salts, sloughing towards scourging themselves, wishing he had his skin with the loofah, scouring all the dead one of the stiff, scratchy towels his gran had cells off. Who knew, it might actually make him had when he was a child. Those had left the feel alive again. Christ, but he’d forgotten how skin glowing red and stinging and he wanted punishing it was to spend the entire day pound- something that would abate this melancholy. £3£3£3 ing the streets of London—and to make matters There was an underlying uneasiness, one that 79 worse, these bloody boots were not exactly de- he recognised as his body responding to his £3£3£3 signed for that kind of thing. Still, a meal and a moroseness, the physical need rising to bath and he’d be as right as rain. As long as he subliminate the emotional pain. His cock was didn’t think about Bodie… beginning to quicken, slow flow of blood, som- Easier said than done, his meal spoiled by bre rise of his flesh, the reaffirmation of life over the remembering of the few contacts they’d had the brooding depression inside. Absently, he with each other today. The Hammer House of stroked himself, feeling no real pleasure, going Horror trip in the car this morning, the stiff- then to pumping his cock. The restless desire ness in Cowley’s office, the clawing wariness for remained, but he was still limp as a dish-cloth. that five minutes when they’d bumped into each A dollop of lotion, slicking his cock, fist pump- other at HQ before Bodie’s report to Cowley. ing, turgid response, flesh reluctant, needing Normally, he would have waited for Bodie, gone more from the mind than this loneliness. for a bite to eat and a drink together, going over God, but he missed Bodie. Losing him was the day with each other, almost like a married going to be harder than anything he’d dreaded, couple, this compulsion to share their experi- far harder. He went into his bedroom, stopping ences. Apart from one, that was. Apart from in front of his wardrobe, opening the door, star- one… He was as depressed as the weather, so ing at the pale nudity that was reflected back at he shut his curtains, turned all the lights off, him. He looked like a wraith, a banshee come to put Sibelius on the tape deck and wandered wail his own death—or the death of his rela- upstairs. The bathroom was a cave of darkness, tionship with Bodie, incomplete as it had been. the tub a subterranean pool, redolent with the For him, he reminded himself. Bodie had every- odours of mineral salts, soothing his mind as thing from it that he’d needed. Until last night. well as his body. Still, he turned the problem Anger flashed through him: what the hell did over and over in his mind, pressing the bruise he think he was doing, standing here like some to see if it still hurt. Barbara Cartland heroine? What the fuck did it

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 matter what Bodie thought? What did it matter know anyway? All he knew was how to pull whether or not Bodie could handle Doyle’s birds, no imagination, missionary position all foibles? They were grown men both, and if Bodie the way. didn’t like what he’d seen yesterday evening, that Well, all right, so he was being unfair, but he was Bodie’s problem, not his. After all, it wasn’t absolved himself, knowing he had to burn this as if they were lovers… Oh, how that phrase out of his system before the guilt and depres- haunted him, shrieking and laughing at him, sion started the vicious cycle all over again. It mocking cruelly. Narrow minded Bodie, not had taken him too many years to come to terms someone to approach with a proposal for a ho- with who and what he was to simply throw it all mosexual liaison. Bodie, who tended to see black away because someone else didn’t like it. Even and white, not bothering with the subtleties of if that someone else was someone he seemed to grey, not in his own life. Spades were spades, have fallen in love with… Perhaps that was why all of them bastards, until he met one he fan- they called it falling in love: it happened when cied, then suddenly blacks were wonderful you weren’t looking. people. Poling on the river was for toffee-nosed “Pack it in, Doyle,” he said to his reflection. pansies, until he’d met a girl who went in for “Get a grip. It’s not the end of the world. that kind of thing, then the river and the coun- Bodie’ll calm down, he’ll get himself in order. tryside were the only places to spend days off. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It doesn’t And queers were weak, undependable and hurt anyone, it doesn’t do any harm. It’s not flighty. That was it, final. Too risky to chance as if it’s pædophilia or anything like that, is their partnership—and their friendship—on him it? Get on with it, don’t let Bodie get to you…” being the right one at the right time to change But his face, when he looked at himself, was Bodie’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t want being la- still miserable, his body still as ugly. Slowly, belled as queer, didn’t want being stuck into a he went over to the tallboy, to the bottom

£3£3£3 tiny pigeonhole that only half-fitted him. drawer, where he kept his special things. He 80 He was still standing in front of the mirror, had to do it, the compulsion overwhelming, £3£3£3 a pale shape in the darkening dusk. He the intellectual need to prove that it was all switched on the lamp, watching himself, the right pushing him on. First, the silver brace- way his muscles moved as he walked back into let, heavy on his wrist. Then the neck chain, the small world contained in the mirror. There resettling it as it caught on the hair of his wasn’t much to look at, he thought. An aver- chest. An earring, next, the one he always wore age body, bit on the skinny side, hairy, knees when he did the clubs. Then the silk, the fab- he’d always hated, legs that he saw as ugly, ric whispering onto his skin, black glistening the shin muscle prominent and stringy, the in the lamp-lit glow. He seated himself on the thighs heavy from running. Not much, he bed, slowly rolled the stockings up his legs, thought, not much at all. covering his legs, making them look long and His body was still itching with the gloom of perfect. Finally, high heels, shiny and stiletto, his spirit, depression yawning at him with bored altering his centre of gravity, changing the cant patience, just waiting, like a big cat. He could of his walk. Facing himself in the mirror, femi- feel himself going towards it, his mouth turning nine contrasting masculine, the balance in his downwards, his eyes sombre, no spark of life to soul settled. This time, when his hand cradled them. He stroked his cock again, to see if that his cock through the caressing hold of the silk, would help. It just hung there, limp, foreskin he felt a throb of response, pride surging covering the head and even that suddenly struck through him. He wasn’t ashamed, he would him as unattractive. Disgusted with his body never be ashamed again. He had promised and his attitude, he turned aside, carefully nur- himself that, when he finally faced up to the tured anger coming to his rescue. He damned lingering afterburn of the day his dad had well would not let Bodie get to him like this. He caught him sniffing around his big sister’s wasn’t going to hang around, miserable and underwear, a pair of her pink ones on, his guilty, for something that wasn’t wrong, no prick stiff under the softness of the cotton. matter what Bodie thought. And what did Bodie He’d carried that shame with him for years,

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 far too many years, until he’d been able to shed wanted to come over and tell you that it was all it, piece by piece. And he wasn’t going to shoul- right by me, if you, well, you know, wanted to der any more guilt or shame over this, not even dress like that.” for Bodie. “All right by you?” The anger in Doyle’s voice cracked through the room, bouncing off the This time, he wasn’t about to just barge in. walls, ricocheting through Bodie. “Big of you, He stood at the front door, patient for Doyle’s mate, fucking big of you. You’re giving me your permission to come in. It came, finally, and he permission, are you? Well, I’ve got news for you, couldn’t blame Doyle for giving him wariness Bodie. I don’t need permission from you or any- instead of welcome. Doyle was in his old dress- body else to do what I fucking please. You un- ing gown, the one Bodie had tried to get him to derstand, do you?” he scoffed, the contempt wear the night before, to cover a shame that drawing blood as Bodie’s revulsion had drawn should not exist. They were as silent and as Doyle’s the night before. “Let me tell you some- strained as they had been in the car that morn- thing, you great stupid prat, you don’t under- ing, eyeing each other, each speculating as to stand shit! Cross-dressing? Read about it in a what the other was up to. Bodie couldn’t help book, did you? Well, I fucking live it, mate. And wondering what Doyle was wearing under the it’s not cross-dressing, not for me. I don’t do it dressing gown. He had his suspicions, for it was to express my feminine side, I do it because it almost unheard of for Doyle to wear pyjamas turns me on. That’s right, look shocked. You and slippers and then top it all off with the dress- must’ve known that, Bodie, from what you saw. ing gown, so probably, under all the masculine What d’you think I was doing last night, eh? trappings, lurked the feminine. You walked in on me when I was actually com- Bodie took a deep breath and spoke into the ing, for christ’s sake. You call that being femi- awkwardness that chasmed between them. “I’ve nine, do you? And what about my toys, what been thinking, Ray,” he began, looking at his about them, Bodie? That a non-sexual thing as £3£3£3 hands, not Doyle. “Been thinking a lot. And I well? I’ve known you to blind yourself to the 81 think I owe you an apology. What you do in the truth before, but this is bloody pathetic.” £3£3£3 privacy of your own home is up to you. And now The chair he was sitting in was turning to that I’m over the shock, I’ve realised that just quicksand, sucking him in, suffocating him. He because you wear women’s clothes, it doesn’t had to get up, to move, to get away, to not hear mean you’re queer. I mean, lots of men do it, what Doyle was saying. It couldn’t be true, it don’t they? Judges, generals, parsons… It’s couldn’t be true, it couldn’t… called cross-dressing, isn’t it? I’ve been reading “Face the facts, Bodie. Your partner’s bisexual up about it, about how it’s non-sexual, just a and he gets some of his kicks from what’s known way of showing the feminine side of your na- in the trade as gender-fuck. I don’t expect you ture, like. Not that there’s anything wrong with to understand this, you ignorant bastard, but having a feminine side, mind,” he hastened to I’ll tell you anyway, then you can get out of my reassure his silent audience, “they say we’ve all sight and take your fucking platitudes with you. got that to us. And it’s just that some of us need Non-sexual.” to dress the part, cos we don’t let it out properly The scorn was like acid in Bodie’s eyes, blind- the rest of the time. So…” he paused, still not ing him so that he could hear every minute looking at Doyle, part of his mind still in foment sound—the tick of the clock, the hiss of the hi- over what Doyle had on under that bloody dress- fi where the tape had ended, the heave of his ing gown. As if hearing his thoughts, Doyle own breath, the furious hiss of Doyle’s—but see leaned forward and as he did, Bodie looked up, nothing. He got to his feet, went over to the win- seeing the explanation of the long delay before dow, unable to stay still, powerless to leave the Doyle had let him in, catching sight of Doyle’s force of that inexorable voice. chest—his naked chest. And feet that were bare “It’s very sexual for me, Bodie. It turns me on in the slippers, no stockings, no women’s things something fierce to stand there like that. All the as far as Bodie could see. He refused to name women’s stuff, it just contrasts with me, makes the pang in him disappointment. “Well, I just me look even more masculine. Don’t you see,

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Bodie? I don’t do it to be feminine, I do it to be out and go to bed, pulling the blankets up over more masculine. And it’s exciting, feeling that his head, the way he had when he was only a silk on me, it’s so delicate and fine, and I’m so boy, caught in the middle of his parents’ divorce. hard and muscular.” The averted face was getting to him, this display of outrage and horri- He had intended to go straight home, but he fied disbelief. “Shock you, does it? D’you want couldn’t, everything Doyle had said to him re- to be really shocked, Bodie? Well, I’ll tell you volving around his head like a deviant carou- something to scare you shitless. I think about sel. For hours he drove, returning to the soli- you sometimes, when I’m standing there in my tude of his flat only when he was so tired that things. I think about you and I fuck my hand, he began to make mistakes in his driving. In and I pretend it’s your arse I’m fucking.” his own home, he undressed, resolutely refus- He came right up behind Bodie, until Bodie ing to think about what Doyle had said. Not could smell his after-shave and the underlying another second would he devote to it, brushing musk that told him what Doyle must have been his teeth, washing, going to the bathroom, climb- doing prior to Bodie’s arrival. ing into his bed with jaw clenched and muscles “I do it for a special treat, Bodie, when I want jumping with tension. He wasn’t going to think to feel really sexy, when I want to do something about it any more. Not at all. Not for a second. extra good for myself. Look at me, Bodie, you But Ray had said he thought about him some- bastard!” He grabbed Bodie’s arm, forcing him times, when he was doing that. Ray, thinking round, shaking him. “Look at me, Bodie. Don’t about him, wanking. His mate, a poof. No, he you hide from me. Don’t you do this to us, you thought, be fair. Bisexual. Someone who could stupid prick. Why does it make a difference, eh, screw anything that moved. tell me that. D’you think last night was the first He’d been like that, once. He rolled over, pull- time I’ve ever done it? D’you think I’m a differ- ing the blankets up over his ears, screwing his

£3£3£3 ent man from the one you’ve known all this time? eyes tightly shut as if that would blot out what 82 Bodie, I don’t even remember when I started his imagination was showing him. He wasn’t £3£3£3 doing this, I just know that I’ve always done it. going to think about that. He’d given all that up I’ve always liked it. Used to steal my big sister’s when he’d got back to civilisation and women, knickers and wear them to school under my didn’t do it any more, didn’t need it any more, uniform, and it was best of all when we did didn’t want it any more. sports, running around being all tough and play- But Ray did. A lot, if the pain in those green ing football or rugby, with my panties rubbing eyes had been anything to go by. Christ, how me all the time. Oh, Bodie,” and the anger was long had Ray wanted him? And why had he like him, utterly spent. “Can’t you try to under- never said anything? stand? It doesn’t change who I am, it shouldn’t But he had, his memory supplied with in- change what we’ve got.” convenient honesty. The night Bodie’s girlfriend Bodie wouldn’t look at him, white around the had stood him up and Doyle had suggested that mouth, body rigid. as his girl had hinted more than once that she’d “Bodie, don’t you dare do this to us.” like a three-way with him and Bodie, then why Bodie wrenched himself free, finally looking didn’t they go ahead and do it? He remembered at Doyle. “What the fuck do you expect from his own reaction: rebuttal, vicious and beyond me, Ray? What can you expect?” arguing, the instinctive reaction to something Then he was gone again, whirlwind leaving, that scared him. He had wanted men before, hollowness setting up home in Doyle’s belly. when he was at school and first at sea. And when Going upstairs, he fingered his lovely things, he was in Africa, of course. But it was one thing but even they were unwelcome, a symbol of all to want men when there were no women around; the trouble gone before, of all the trouble yet to it was something else entirely to be afraid of a come. He thought of all the things he could do threesome because you just might be more in- with what was left of the night, then tried to terested in the other bloke than the girl. think of a single thing he actually wanted to do. He rolled over again, onto his back this time, Alone and lonely, all he did was turn the lights then onto his front, punching his pillow in lieu

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 of his willful memory that wouldn’t shut up or If it were already common knowledge…then let him go. Doyle, saying that he thought of Bodie Cowley didn’t care, knew them well enough to when he was masturbating. Bodie knew what it trust them not to be security risks. was like, to stand and watch a man beat his Yet he had thrown things at Doyle that ac- own rhythm stick. Knew how exciting that could cused him of being lower than low. And for what? be, knew how it could build anticipation until For doing something that the poor sod obviously the sex itself became a desperation that had to couldn’t resist, something that was as much a be filled. part of him as sexual desire was of Bodie? He And that compulsion for sex, was it any dif- twisted back onto his stomach, pillowing his ferent from what Ray did? He tossed again, the arms under the pillow, resting his cheek on the sheet entangling him in a sticky sweatiness, softness, feeling the hardness underneath. Was adding to his annoyance, fraying his nerves even this what Doyle felt when he dressed like that, more. He wasn’t going to think about it, wasn’t, the intriguing differences, the congruity of plea- wasn’t, wasn’t… surable sensation, but delivered in such con- Ray, turning towards him, seed spurting from trasting textures? He pressed his cock into the him, arching towards Bodie even as Bodie had bed, into the softness of sheet and the hard- stamped out the fire that was threatening to ness of mattress and felt the goodness of it surge ignite his groin. And from what Ray had said, through him. How many times had he done the he would have been thinking about Bodie, at same kind of thing, similar, but different? the very moment Bodie had stumbled upon him. And unbidden, the image came to him again, He rolled over on to his back, trying to ignore of Ray, standing there so tall and with his mas- the hope-filled stirring of his cock. He wasn’t culinity spearing out from the femininity of like that, not any more. his…‘things’ as he had called them. Such con- But Ray was. And without any kind of guilt, trast, such a richness of textures… And a nor shame, nor any real difficulty. So why confluence of those things convention had al- £3£3£3 shouldn’t Bodie? Why should he deny himself ways told him meant sex. How many men could 83 something he had once enjoyed? It wasn’t smok- remember the first time they’d seen the image £3£3£3 ing, which he loved, but had given up for the of ultimate sexual attraction: the woman in black sake of his health and surviving Macklin. The lace, fish-net stockings and high heels? Bodie old man must know about Doyle, even if he tried to remember, but it had come as no sur- hadn’t seen fit to tell his partner. A new thought prise to him when he had seen them in the occurred to him then, a realisation fed by magazines his dad had kept hidden under the months upon months of minuscule clues that mattress. Already familiar, already recognised had added up to absolutely nothing until this as something that spelled the ultimate in desir- moment: what if Cowley hadn’t said anything ability. Long legs sheathed in stockings, arch- to him because he thought Bodie knew? Not, ing over pointed-toed shoes, enticing silk dis- perhaps about the cross-dressing—or gender playing rather than hiding the lure of genita- fuck, to use Doyle’s terms—but about the bi- lia… sexuality? They were the butt of many a joke And the other symbol of sex that he had seen. round the Firm, cat-calls and comments, most It all came down to the other thing, it was al- of which they replied to in kind, camping it up ways the central focus of fuck-scenes in videos, like a row of tents. What if people already or in porno mags, or in graffiti scratched on the thought… walls of public lavatories. The erect phallus. And it didn’t bother him at all, much to his Penis, prick, dick, cock, John Thomas, willie… surprise. It was, rather, as if the worst had al- There were so many words, but the image was ready been survived, for if everyone already always the same, hardness rising demandingly thought it, then he wouldn’t have to face the from the curve of balls and the thatch of pubic knowing sniggers. If everyone already hair. knew…then there were only a couple of the mob He bolted upright, shoving the covers off, all who didn’t enter into the spirit of the jokes, a hot and bothered. For a moment, he rested on couple of the staff who looked askance at them. the side of the bed, mind and pulse racing, pic-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 tures tumbling through his mind, acrobats of “You coming in or is what you’ve got to say perversity, filling him with erotic images old and quick enough to be said on the doorstep?” new, all of them bringing his blood to a boil. “I’ll come in.” And at the centre of it, the hub of all this hun- Silence again, twisting to add to this rope that gry revelation, was Ray. could hang them if they weren’t careful. Christ, how could he ever have been stupid Doyle, still well-wrapped, as if the cold had enough not to see what was happening to them? whistled through the walls of his house and Just because he had told himself it was incon- Bodie the big bad wolf come to devour him, ceivable was no reason for him not to have seen propped himself on the arm of the sofa, one leg it. As Ray had said, he could be willfully, de- swinging like a pendulum, marking the time as structively blind sometimes. He was on his feet it passed. now, throwing clothes on, cramming his bare “I’ve come to give you an apology.” feet into shoes, not bothering to tie the laces, “No, thanks, Bodie, I’ve already had one of tearing out of his flat and into his car. At this your apologies tonight, I’m not up to another point, their flats were no more than ten min- one.” utes away and that was in traffic. At a quarter “Yeh, well, this one’s different. Just a flat out past two in the morning, there was only a lone ‘sorry’. Shouldn’t’ve said and done the half of it, panda car disappearing down a side street, free- so I’ve come to say I’m sorry.” ing him to speed. He had no idea what he was Doyle stared at him for a minute, as if weigh- going to say to Ray when he got there—always ing his sincerity. “Yeh, well, I should be assuming he’d be allowed in after the stupidi- apologising to you an’ all, I suppose.” ties he’d come out with earlier. A silence notable for its awkwardness, neither one of them able to do more than fritter The door buzzing didn’t wake him: the end- glances away on each other. Then Doyle sighed.

£3£3£3 less hammering echo of his confrontation with “Are you going to be able to work with me still?” 84 Bodie had been doing that. Without having to “Yeh.” £3£3£3 ask, he knew who it was and he dragged him- “That’s it? It won’t be that easy, Bodie. You self, wearied into numbness, down to answer know that.” the door. At least they weren’t working tomor- “Of course I know that, just how stupid d’you row—today—which was just as well. The way think I am? Oh, all right, so I’m going to be look- things were between them, probably the only ing at you wondering, but not about the job, thing they’d be good for would be getting them- Ray. I know I behaved like a complete prat, but selves killed. Always providing, of course, that I was a bit taken aback. Can’t think why, mind.” Bodie didn’t kill him for what he’d said. God, he He grinned, inviting Doyle to share the mild couldn’t believe he’d actually told Bodie he humour, start getting them back on an even keel. wanted him. And if he’d had to say it, why the A long, thoughtful look, then the faintest of hell couldn’t he have been a modicum less stu- chuckles. “Okay, okay, so you’ll be fine on the pid about it? The quintessential lesson in how job. All we have to worry about now is the rest not to make a confession to your friend and to of it.” someone you loved. Bodie couldn’t meet his eyes, turning instead to his watch, taking it off, putting it back on. He’d never seen Doyle look like this before, When he looked up, his gaze was steady and so worn and defeated. Not even after Ann Holly clear as a summer’s day. “When you said you had he been close to this faded raggedness of thought about me when you…” spirit. He took a leaf out of Doyle’s book and felt “Put my things on?” guilt lade his shoulders. Even acknowledging “Yeh, when you put your things on. When that there had been hastily-spoken cruelties on you said that, Ray, were you just saying it to both sides, the original sin had been with him, wind me up or do you really think about me for breaching Doyle’s privacy, for setting him- like that?” self on the Bench over him, for casting the first It was Doyle’s turn to look away, to take a stone. “Ray…” breath, a moment out of time before returning

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 the bright wariness of his eyes back on Bodie. “You really want to hear me say it, don’t you? “That depends on you, mate.” The sadness bled All right, I’ll put it in so many words. I want you from him like clouds at dusk, barely visible, to love me. That clear enough? I’ve put my head completely beyond reach, but so terribly mel- on the block like a good little boy, now it’s your ancholy. “Whichever answer makes it all right turn, Bodie. Why’d you come back here tonight?” between us, that’s the answer I’ll give you. If Bodie came to his feet, walking slowly across you want me to think about you like my old the room until he was directly in front of Doyle. grannie, then I’ll tell you that’s how I see you.” “I couldn’t stop thinking about it—seeing you The very atoms in the air held still, frozen, like that and all the stuff you’d said. Ray…hear waiting for the words that clung, fear-filled, on me out, will you? Listen, I’ve been round the Bodie’s lips before they spilled, tumbling help- merry-go-round a few times, when it comes to lessly from him, tumbling them both helplessly blokes.” He kept on talking, right over the sud- into an immutable future. “And if I don’t want den shocked jerk of Doyle’s head and ignored you to do that, Ray? If I want you to tell me the the hungry fierceness in the green eyes. “Not truth, no matter what, then what would you for years, mind you, a hell of a lot of years, but say?” I used to. I had a million excuses and to be hon- In years to come, Bodie would always say that est, I’d always choose a woman over a fella any this was the greatest moment of courage he’d day of the week. But seeing you like that, think- seen in his life, sitting there watching Doyle hand ing of you thinking about me… I just couldn’t his heart and soul over on a silver platter to a get it out of my head.” He grabbed Doyle’s hand, man he feared held a scalpel. holding it between his own, aware as always of “If you wanted the truth? Then I’d tell you I how physically warm Ray was. “I know how you think about you all the time, every day and ev- feel about me—couldn’t really miss it after all ery time I look at you, I want you. And some- this, could I? And I think I could feel the same times, when I’m having sex with someone else, way about you.” He brought the hand to his lips, £3£3£3 I’ll pretend it’s you. Or when I’m in bed on my turning it, licking lightly where the pulse leapt 85 own, I’ll close my eyes and make it you touch- in Doyle’s wrist. “But the real question is £3£3£3 ing me.” He got to his feet, going over to the hi- whether we want to do anything about all this.” fi, picking up a tape and discarding it when he “I can tell you here and now what I want, saw that it was the same music that had been Bodie.” playing before, when Bodie had run from him. “Even if I don’t know if I can handle a long- “And sometimes, when I’ve put my things on, I term relationship?” make love to myself because you’re not there to “Who said anything about long-term?” do it for me.” Hearty—as hearty as the traditional breakfast “What do you want, Ray? If your fairy god- brought the condemned man. mother came through the wall at you right now, “Stop pretending, Ray, there’s only me here what would you ask her for?” It seemed so easy and since when have you been able to get any- to ask these questions, in the balm of darkness, thing past me? Come on, you’ve never done any- the only light a single halo beside the window. thing by halves, why’d you start it now? Look, “Go on, Ray, tell me.” I’m not saying that this’d just be a quick fling, “Same as anyone else, Bodie. Love, happi- I’m not saying that at all—” ness, health, wealth.” “Then what are you saying?” The room was a womb, sussurating silence “I’m saying I’m pretty useless at staying with guarding them as they felt their way, blind, along someone. If they don’t get killed, then this new path, a ribbon of light that was thin something’s always happened and I’ve been able enough to cut like a blade if a single step went to get out before I get too involved. I can’t prom- awry. “Who d’you want the love from? Tell me, ise you anything, not a thing.” Ray.” Anger so hot it had burned cold flashed “Thought it’d be obvious after these shenani- through him, words spitting from him. “What gans.” do you think I am, Bodie? Some poor shrinking “Tell me, Ray.” violet? Some poor little thing you have to talk

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 sweetly to to get her to open her legs for you? Doyle faced him again, incredulity dominat- Don’t you try this with me, mate, don’t you even ing his face. “Are you trying to tell me what I begin to start on that. All right, so I like to wear think you’re trying to tell me? You honestly ex- women’s underwear but that’s only once in a pect me to believe that you’re this—” a contemp- while, when I need it. But even if I did it every tuous snap of his fingers “—far away from be- fucking night and every fucking day it still ing in love with me? You’ll be selling me forests wouldn’t make me into some Victorian virgin. in the Hebrides next.” I’ve told you, Bodie, I don’t do it to make me “Straight up, Ray—although I don’t suppose into Little Miss Muffet, I do it cos it makes me that’s the best way to put it, given the circum- feel as butch as hell. So you get your stupid stances.” notions out of your thick skull and—” “Yeh, exactly. Look, how can you just do a U- “Give over, Ray, I never said anything any- turn like this, eh, Bodie?” where near that! All I was saying was that you’re “I could say the same to you about the fucking better at belonging than I am. That’s all, just corset!” trying to lay all the cards on the table. So don’t “But that’s different, I’ve been doing that for bite my head off.” years—” Doyle turned away from him, wrestling his “And that’s what I’m saying to you, Ray. I’ve temper under control, forcing himself to listen done it with blokes before, right? You just didn’t to words and not his own insecurities and fears. know about it, the same as me and your undies. “Okay.” Fingers tangling through hair, wiping You’re really important to me, it just hadn’t his face, trying vainly to knead out some of the dawned on me how much until all this made tension in his neck. “Okay. What’re these cards me stop and look at it properly. Anyway, what of yours then?” does it matter when it started or whether or not Bodie shrugged, even though Ray couldn’t see you can believe what I say? You can believe what

£3£3£3 him, then reached out, watching as the shock I do, can’t you?” 86 of his touch rippled down Ray’s spine. He felt And standing looking at him, handsome in £3£3£3 the repercussions in his own flesh, the prescient the light of the single lamp, Doyle suddenly knowledge of what was to come commingling couldn’t care less what had brought Bodie to with the sudden bolt of desire, that moment him like this. What difference did it make if it when he realised that he honestly did want Ray, were for curiosity or kinkiness or pity? He’d have wanted him with a fierce need that verged on Bodie, at least for a while. Quite a long while, if the frightening. “That we start this and go into he played his cards right, if he kept Bodie happy. it with our eyes open. We want each other, there’s “Come upstairs,” he said, not realising how no gainsaying that. We neither one of us wants desolate his invitation sounded, nor how de- to split up, but I can’t make you promises I don’t feated. know I can keep. But I will promise to try, Ray. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, Bodie God knows, I’ll try.” wanted to shout even as he followed Doyle up- Doyle leaned back into Bodie’s strength, rest- stairs. In the bedroom, Doyle began methodi- ing against the broadness of Bodie’s chest. Oh cally removing his dressing gown and pyjamas, would that it were all so simple. To go from hor- as if this were no more important nor sexual rified disgust to desire to commitment. Would than a doctor’s examination. Automatically tak- that it were… “It’s a bit sudden, isn’t it? Tues- ing his own clothes off, Bodie couldn’t forbear day last, you were as straight as a die and now to comment. “I’ve just handed you my heart on here you are proposing shacking up with an- a fucking silver platter and you make it sound other bloke, and one who dresses up in women’s like I’ve offered to pay you! What’s wrong with things at that.” you, Ray? That chip on your shoulder affecting “How the hell d’you think I feel? Christ, Ray, your brain?” I thought I’d left all that kind of stuff behind, “Don’t let’s start arguing, Bodie. Get into bed given it up for civilisation, but when I saw you and I’ll get the stuff.” With that prosaic banal- like that, actually coming… Can’t get it out of ity, he disappeared off into the bathroom and my head, Ray. It won’t go away.” Bodie couldn’t help but compare this joyless

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 lump with the feral beauty of the man he’d pulling him down on the bed, turning him onto walked in on with such unexpected result. It his back so that he could straddle the black- wasn’t right, it just wasn’t right… clad body, but Doyle had other ideas. Doyle barely glanced at Bode when he came Doyle twisted, transposing them until it was back through, setting towel and cream down on Bodie on the bottom, Doyle kneeling astride him, the bed-stand, pulling the covers back to get in dominant, in control, showing them both that beside Bodie. Words, seductive and low and drip- he was still as much a man as Bodie. Then the ping meaning, halted him. issue was not one of who was on top, or who “Get your things on, Ray.” had the more machismo, for a look passed be- His gaze snapped upwards, pinning Bodie like tween them and there was no room left for any- a butterfly for display. “What?” thing else but the emotions of being together. In “You heard me. Get your things on, Ray. I’d that look lay a truth, as small as the pea in the like to see you like that.” princess’ bed, so small a thing to offer proof. Eyes narrowed, voice narrower still. “Why?” Doyle saw it in Bodie’s eyes, saw the love that “Because I didn’t get a chance to look prop- lurked there, too shy and insecure to show its erly before, that’s why. And because it makes face in the brightness of day. But here, in the you feel sexy and gorgeous. And because it’s secrecy of the dark, it peeped out, making sud- something you want. Let me see you, Ray.” den, glorious sense of everything Bodie had been A very long pause, lingering stares and lin- doing. Even the outrage in the beginning was gering thought and then, in silence, Ray got to quite reasonable now: seeing Ray like that had his feet and went to the chest of drawers, pull- pulled the carpet out from under Bodie and look ing open the bottom drawer, the familiar creak what had been hiding there. Small wonder the squealing at him. Item by item, he drew his poor man had lashed out and then run, only to things out, and then, item by item, never for bury the facts even deeper so that he could cling, one moment looking away from Bodie, he drew by his fingernails if need be, to a world that was £3£3£3 his things on, the lusciousness of fabric and so much less complicated. Doyle leaned down 87 the taboo of his indulgence stirring his desire. to kiss him, saw Bodie’s mouth opening to him, £3£3£3 Item by item, transforming himself until he was but instead, there was a gossamer kiss on trans- clad, head to toe, in his special things, his cock lucent eyelid and a sweetness so intense it made hardening with every hint of arousal from the heads and hearts spin. man in his bed. Then Bodie moved under Doyle and sent a Bodie couldn’t believe his eyes: this was not snarl of pleasure through them both, and Doyle how he’d expected it to be. Oh, there was an kissed him again, but fiercely, possessively, ambivalence there, corkscrewing around his grinding the hardness of his cock against Bodie, emotions, but it was all overshadowed by the caressing him with the softness of silk. Hands scene unfolding before him. With every article raged over body, Doyle frantic to touch every that Doyle put on, he layered femininity over inch he had imagined so often, Bodie filing him- his masculinity, layer upon layer, male sand- self up with the endless contrast of wispy fabric wiched with female, building and building until and the strength of maleness underneath. A it was a composite picture of neither male nor whisper of sound, and the panties ripped, the female, but one thing only: Raymond Doyle. It head of Doyle’s cock pushing through, tapping was the perfect juxtaposition of all the things against Bodie’s, pushing at him. In unison, he’d always been expected to find sexy, but it mouths forged together, tongues sucking on was Ray who was turning his bones into liquid each other, the two men hauled Doyle’s things lust. Ray was sex personified, desire beating off him, careless of anything but the feel of each from him in flammatory waves, pummelling other. Then, a moment of profound stillness as Bodie, turning him on something fierce. He was they lay together, skin on skin, flesh on flesh, finding it hard to breathe as Doyle came over to their hearts beating together. Bodie hadn’t him, hips swaying with the cant of his high heels, turned on this quickly since he’d been a teen, cock swaying in equal measure. He was trans- overflowing with that frenetic need to come, to fixed by Doyle’s gaze, as he reached for him, be part of someone.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Doyle felt the upswelling of desire, felt it and ing Bodie’s arse, filling him up, filling Doyle matched it, his own body weeping its pleasure, with sensation. He heard, as from a distance, sweat pouring from him, precum seeping from the keening cry that erupted from Bodie, the him. He was slick all over, and hot, and hungry intensity of his pleasure driving the sound and all he was was the drive to bury himself in from him even as Doyle drove himself deep Bodie’s depths. Fingernails scrabbling, his inside. So tight, so incredibly tight, hardness mouth sucking on the fragile pulse in Bodie’s in softness, perfect balance, as he needed it neck, he found the tube of lotion, squirting it to be. He thrust, hard and fast, Bodie pump- onto trembling fingers, slithering it onto shiv- ing with him, Bodie’s cock slick as a mouth ering cock. Bodie was already spreading him- on his belly. He looked at Bodie looking at him self under Doyle, wrapping long legs around and knew that they neither of them could wait. strong hips, arms pulling Doyle in tight and There’d be time enough later for them to be close. all slow and sweet and loving, but for tonight, Two fingers, slick with lotion, going into him for this moment, their loving would be fire and but too much, too quick, Bodie’s flinch of pain hurtling ecstasy. He couldn’t maintain con- forcing him to slow, to breathe and to think, trol, fucking Bodie with all his heart, pound- holding back a little, so that this was an act of ing into him, the channel of flesh fucking him love and not of rape. He knelt, so that Bodie’s back with the tightness of its grip. The cum legs were splayed comfortably around his waist was gathered in his belly, hot and transcen- and then he slid his pinkie into Bodie, slowly, dent with pleasure. He thrust again, feeling so slowly, watching Bodie every inch of the way. Bodie shove up to meet him. Again, and No distress there, only the brief closing of the Bodie’s mouth fastened to his, breath min- eyes, to re-open and stare with utter trust at gling, sweat blending. Again, and the cum shot Doyle. So. The index finger this time, gently, from him in a hot stream to splash on the

£3£3£3 carefully, easing the puckered muscle, stretch- hotter yet flesh of Bodie’s insides. There was 88 ing, stretching, taking his time, letting Bodie a moment of massive stillness, and then Bodie £3£3£3 adjust. shouted, back arching and mouth falling open, No longer an island, Bodie luxuriated in a his cum exploding from him. feeling he had almost forgotten, this having someone else a part of you. And this sweetness Foolish, really, to be so disappointed that it was only the very beginning. He could feel his was over so soon, but Doyle wished it had lasted arse relaxed and wished Doyle would get on with forever. His whole body was still tingling with it, but his mouth was stoppered by Doyle’s, the feel of Bodie clutching him, ensnaring him kisses making him soar. in a trap he had no desire to leave. He held Bodie Another finger, two of them, side by side, deep close, cradling him in his strength, hands strok- inside Bodie, spreading his arse to let him in. ing soft skin until his cock was ready to love He rotated his fingers, pulling back so that he Bodie again. He dropped small kisses on every could watch Bodie’s face the moment his fin- available inch of Bodie, caressing him, keeping gers found the buried prostate. Bodie’s cock him close, keeping him safe. jerked as Doyle’s fingers found him inside and ecstasy flooded him. Bodie felt, suddenly, on the For others, it would, no doubt, have been a verge of coming and felt, even more keenly, that small pleasure, but for Bodie it was a gift be- he was empty inside. The fingers weren’t enough, yond measure. There had never been anyone to not even close. He wanted Doyle’s cock up him, hold him quite like this before, giving him this wanted to feel that plundering masculinity pos- utter certainty that he would be protected and sess him. Wanted Ray… cared for, sheltered and succoured. He nestled The pretty pink hole was gaping wide for all the more comfortably into Doyle’s arms, let- him now, a maw waiting to be filled. Carefully, ting himself drift on a sea of tranquillity, his he positioned himself, Bodie’s hand coming nerves still singing their pæan of pleasure. round to guide him, leading him. There was a Something was scratching him. He ignored it. moment of snugness, then his cock was tamp- It bothered him a little more. He still ignored it,

£3£3£3 89 £3£3£3

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 TWO COPPERS TO RUB TOGETHER These two humorous pieces have at least three things in common. First they are both sports stories—sexual and otherwise. The first, “Own Goal”, is the second in M. Fae Glasgow’s ongoing sports themed series—Number one was “Sticky Wick- ets”—while the second begins with a more intellectual game before things begin to get out of hand. Or should that be out of foot? The second commonality is the presence of Glaswegians. Surely that isn’t surprising! And finally, both tales get down to the having of tails—so to speak—in public places. Oh my! OWN GOAL M. FAE GLASGOW

IT WAS WHEN THEY WERE BEING BUFFETED BY THE at the midwife. Or the doctor, if he’d thought TARTAN HORDES that suspicion first began to he’d get a bigger rise out of that. dawn: he hadn’t seen any other Englishmen The police were shepherding them, complete since Aikenhead Road and those few had all with the muted roar of the Tartan Army, towards turned right and gone along Prospecthill Road. a copse of turnstiles: the turnstiles that led to All the English, that is, apart from him and the wrong end of the ground. Swept along by

£3£3£3 Bodie. Bodie had assured him that this was a the lumpy mass of men, he turned a full glower 90 shortcut, that this was better than going along on Bodie: definitely not innocent then, as if there £3£3£3 the Cathcart Road, that this was the best pos- had ever really been any doubt. He should know sible way. Doyle, awash in a sea of guttural better, either than to trust Bodie with buying Glaswegians was having his doubts about that. tickets or to trust him farther than he could Everywhere he looked were men, all chuntering spit. Especially when Bodie had been in his away from the excitement of seeing the national naughty schoolboy mood all week, actually football team take on the Auld Enemy on their managing to get a reluctantly indulgent chuckle home ground, every one of them gleefully hope- out of Cowley. But still, Bodie’d be disappointed ful of smashing the English to bits, a fact that if he just let him away with this fiasco—and gave him no end of reassurance. There seemed Doyle was never one to miss a good argy-bargy to be millions of them, all shapes and sizes, if he could help it. Or cause it… from the weasel to the colossus, and all with He opened his mouth to give Bodie a rollick- tartan scarves round their necks and flags in ing, then shut it again. Up to his neck in Scot- their hands, every man jack—every man jock?— land supporters was probably not the best place of them speaking with the unintelligibility that to broadcast an English accent, especially not marked the Glaswegian to his English ears. considering this was a Scotland v. England Ears, which by the very dint of being so Auld game, for the Cup. And most particularly not Enemy-ish English, he was thinking of keep- considering some of the less than diplomatic ing well-covered. But still, he and Bodie were comments made about this fair city and its in- only on the road leading up to Hampden, it habitants by members of the England squad who could simply be that he was jumping to con- had obviously found nowhere else to pack their clusions and that for once in his misbegotten boots but bang smack in the middle of their life, Bodie was innocent. He looked up at his mouths. No, this was one of those sticky situa- companion and rephrased that: for once in his tions where discretion was the better part of life, Bodie wasn’t totally guilty. That face had valour, and as he had tumbled to Bodie’s little never been innocent—he had probably winked scheme, he had possession of the ball. He’d keep

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 OWN GOAL £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 his mouth shut for the time being and get Bodie terraces with the rest of the mob, he found a later. When it didn’t mean running the risk of space directly behind his erstwhile friend, rais- having his head separated from his shoulders… ing his voice to make sure the bastard heard. Bodie was leading the way, looking for all the “You rotten bugger! I gave you good money to world as if he’d been in the Scotland end of buy us tickets for this game, and you didn’t, Hampden a million times. He even looked the did you? You took those ones Cowley didn’t want part, which wasn’t really surprising consider- and pocketed…” ing the black Irish were of the same stock as It’s very unnerving to be standing in the the maniacal Celts that had plundered and pil- middle of a crowd, all of whom have gone quiet, laged their way through the history of this coun- listening to you. And all of whom look as if they’re try. And judging by some of the faces around wondering which rock you crawled out from him, he’d be plundered and pillaged himself if under and if they could put you back under it. he was found out, a traitor behind enemy lines. With a bulldozer… Despite the bitter cold and the rain dripping “Shh!” Bodie was hissing at him, leaning down his neck, he was suddenly glad that he back, talking out of the corner of his mouth. didn’t have an England scarf with him—this “You’ve been watching Jimmy Cagney films ravening horde would probably use it to hang again, haven’t you?” Doyle said, but quietly, lest him with. his accent was overheard and his head wound But Bodie, snotty Bodie, grinning and confi- up on the pitch instead of the football. “Any road, dent and smug, he still deserved an earful. Doyle how come they’re after my guts for garters, but hesitated a step, getting trod on and cursed at you can get away with being English?” for his rank stupidity. He caught Bodie up, still “Because, Raymond old chap,” this last part considering giving him a bollocksing in public. muttered very quietly over his shoulder in the And why not? He could do a Glasgow accent general vicinity of Doyle’s right ear, “I’m not re- with the best of him. He’d ‘done’ Cowley often ally English. Up here, I’m Liverpudlian, which £3£3£3 enough, hadn’t he? He’d fooled the Minister over doesn’t really count as English, as far as they’re 91 the ’phone that day, hadn’t he? concerned. You, on the other hand, are a marked £3£3£3 He cleared his throat in preparation for a man. You might even say you’re a wanted man.” performance the West End would be proud of. He glanced round, batting his eyelashes and “An’ whit did ye dae wi’ oor money, Bodie? Ah pouting passionately. “You’re ever so lovely, gaed ye plenty ta buy us a pair o’ teeckets, didn’t ’andsome. Come ’ere often, do you?” I the noo?” Doyle took a good look round at the gallus It appeared that he might be able to fool a Glaswegians beginning the primordial chanting Whitehall minister, but as any civil servant could in praise of their national side. “Not bloody likely! have told him, that took no talent whatsoever. Bodie, what’ve you got us into this time? What A tartan bedecked behemoth turned on him, possessed you to bring us up the Scotland end?” blocking out all light and bringing Doyle’s heart “Oooh, ducky, I like getting it up the end,” to his mouth. “Wiz ’at meant tae be funny, pal?” more batting eyelashes, the come-hither effect “Don’t mind him,” Bodie was saying, gather- rather wrecked by the incipient giggles that were ing him up, doing his 7th Cavalry bit, steering threatening to choke him—like Doyle’s hands, him around the monster, shouting back over his now that we stop to think about it really. “Lis- shoulder as they made good their escape. “He’s ten, sunshine, the Cow had those tickets going a bit touched, you know,” he made the universal begging…” gesture for ‘round the twist’, “simple. Just goes “The way you did when it was time to come around repeating everything he hears.” up with the money to get us into the match?” And despite the unmistakeably South of the “Raymond! Accusing me of begging? How Border accent, no one put the boot in, which could you say such a thing to me? I’m too sen- was surprising, considering some of the com- sitive…” ments he’d been hearing round town all day. “Too sensitive? You’re about as sensitive as Well, if Bodie could open his big mouth with Maggie’s knickers. Too much of a skinflint, more impunity, then so could he. Poured onto the like.”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 OWN GOAL £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 That, obviously, pierced Bodie to the core, at his own. He didn’t even like it when his girls for he gave a display poor Juliet would have been kissed him in public, and that was something proud of. Or embarrassed by. But still, all the society had a tendency to look on with benevo- borrowed money Doyle had never repaid and lent approbation, not to mention encourage- all the drinks never reciprocated cut an edge ment. Had to keep those little feet pattering, else into the lisping campiness when he hissed his the Empire would fall. Flat on its face like Doyle, reply back. “Me? You’re the one who’s as tight- if he was to have his say. fisted as a Scotsman’s arse!” And he would, he decided, peeved. He’d get Doyle leaned forward so that some of the rain the little bastard back for turning the tables on could drip from his sodden curls down the back him. Deserved everything Bodie could give him, of Bodie’s neck, resulting in a satisfyingly heart- didn’t he, for spoiling the game. After all, it was felt shiver. “Tight-fisted as a Scotsman’s arse? a tradition, that Bodie teased Doyle and Doyle Bit of a mixed metaphor there, eh, Bodie? But took it. It was established procedure, for Bodie at least it explains where you went last night, to embarrass Doyle in public. He thought back doesn’t it? Tight as a Scotsman’s arse? Is that to the last time he had done something to em- what you uncovered last night?” barrass Doyle in public and amended that to it Bodie fought not to blush, succeeding in look- being established procedure for him to try to ing instead as if he’d just discovered what haggis embarrass Doyle in public. Rotten toad wouldn’t is made of—after he’d eaten it. “Get off it, Ray. even blush, not even that time he’d managed to You know I was doing a job for the old man last get him running out of the loo, RT in one hand, night.” prick in the other, in attack stance looking for A less than gentle pat on Bodie’s backside, the terrorist cell that had infiltrated CI5 HQ it- and the whispered words: “I thought that’s what self. He snickered to himself, wickedly, rightly I said you were up to.” placing that at the top of his considerable lists

£3£3£3 It took a couple of seconds for the implica- of accomplishments, directly above the time he’d 92 tion to dawn on Bodie, but when it did, he forgot Ray to actually pay for dinner. £3£3£3 got himself enough to turn full around to face Yeh. He’d get the rotten bugger for this, he Doyle’s sniggering face and let fly. “Don’t be so thought, mentally rubbing his hands in antici- fucking disgusting!” patory glee. Oh, this was going to be fun. Plus, “Considering what you got up to last night, he could always claim that it was because no isn’t it you that was fucking disgusting? Or were one embarrassed William Andrew Philip Bodie— you fucking something else?” well, not since the Vicar at the Font, landing He didn’t quite manage to suppress the blush him with the stupid name of Billy Bodie. And this time, knowing full well that Doyle would be people wondered why he never used his first cackling like a hen if he saw Bodie’s red face. “I name… Oh, well, at least the other hoodlums at wasn’t fucking anyone, Ray Doyle, and you school hadn’t known that his mum, in an inno- should know, seeing as it was your room I was cence so profound he couldn’t fathom how she stuck in last night.” had ever managed to get pregnant, had called Doyle, the man who could make the phone him Willie. And, being not only naïve but as thick directory sound like an erotic proposition, man- as two short planks nailed together and com- aged to make this sound filthier than Soho and pletely unaware of the niceties of Australian Blytheswood Square all rolled into one. “If you English, the stupid cow had called his sister weren’t fucking anything, disgusting or other- Wendy, thus neatly covering both ends—so to wise, what was all that heavin’ and sighing that speak—of human anatomical details, but mak- was going on then?” ing sure that no speaker of Strine would have That got Bodie to turn around, facing the any doubt that when it came to children, she’d pitch, keeping his blushes to himself. It was all had one of each. He’d nearly died the day he’d fine and well, in fact, it was a barrel of laughs, met the Australian bloke and happened, in to make comment—preferably loudly and in a drunken sentimentality, to mention that his crowd—on Doyle’s sexual antics, it was quite mum would shout out the back window, “Willie! another to have even the most oblique hint made Come in here to Wendy!” Of course, that par-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 OWN GOAL £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ticular bout of embarrassment had been worth said and done, one of his favourite pastimes, it, in the end, so to speak. That night hadn’t getting Bodie so worked up he forgot himself been all bad at all. He’d learned to play two up, and degenerated back into the same gutter from won a fortune. And when the Aussie’s money whence Doyle had come. Made life a lot coarser had run out, well, that had been fair dinkum as and a hell of a lot more fun. “Go on, Bodie, tell well. In fact, getting all bets paid off in the back us. What does a Scotsman wear under his kilt, room had made him go right off good hard cash eh—Willie?” for a while, in favour of good, hard shagging. Being buried alive was too good for the little “Penny for them,” Doyle said, wanting to know snotter. But the nudging in the small of his back what the hell was putting such a smile of self- was giving him an idea for a way to revenge him- satisfaction on Bodie’s face when the prat should self upon the randy toad. Yeh, that’s what he’d have been as red as a beetroot. He knew what do… Bodie had been up to—and ‘up’ was the opera- He reached up behind himself, not even both- tive word—in bed last night. He’d had to slip off ering to look, the same rapport that linked them to the lavatory for a quick wank himself, after. in action serving to let him gather Doyle by the But Bodie should not be looking so pleased with back of the neck and pull him close again. He himself: a smug Bodie was a dangerous Bodie. turned his head, so that his lips were a scant A swift kick and Bodie turned to look at him, an inch from Doyle’s cheek and he noted, with a expression of outrage all over him, his next-door- wicked amusement, that Ray Doyle was staring neighbour’s bovril all down his leg. at him, white-eyed, caution obviously finally “Doyle! Watch what you’re doing. Christ, what beginning to override humour. “Actually, Ray,” are you, a bloody dog? Someone find your funny he simpered, “all laughing and joking aside, I’m spot, did they, Rover?” glad you’ve found me out and you’re “You managed to find a bit of a funny spot so…sympathetic. It was terrible keeping it a se- last night, didn’t you, Bodie?” Doyle whispered cret from you.” Face dead serious, he was hav- £3£3£3 with the puerile glee of a sex-starved school- ing complete hysterics on the inside, watching 93 boy. “All these men swishing around in skirts the implication blossom slowly on Doyle’s face. £3£3£3 getting to you, eh? Always knew you were a leg He let go, with a carefully calculated regret, turn- man, but I never knew you liked ’em hairy.” ing back to the game that was unfolding in front Bodie decided that now would be a really good of him while his own private game was unfold- time to bury the cheeky sod. ing behind him. “Better be careful,” he said, “That why you got us into the Scotland end? rather glad that the maniacs around them were Hoping to be able to cosy up nice and close to only interested in the entertainment they had some strapping big fella in a skirt?” paid good money for and completely oblivious Bodie decided to bury him alive. to the entertaining spectacle that could have “Course, now the great mystery can be solved, been had for free. “Can’t let anyone see, petal.” can’t it?” Doyle hadn’t enjoyed himself this much And then he reached behind him with his in years: well, not since last night, listening to right hand, unerringly homing in on that rather Bodie wanking his little heart out—or something prominent part of Doyle which had nudged him considerably larger, for that matter—in the bed with such pointed insistence earlier. He was try- across the room. “What does a Scotsman wear ing to goose Doyle, but it sounded more like a under his kilt?” he said like a vicar contemplat- cock-crow squawking behind him. ing the Eucharist, face like a fallen angel hav- “Bodie!” this, loud enough to draw the atten- ing the time of its life. “All I have to do after last tion even of Scotsmen involved in that most sa- night is ask you, right?” cred of pursuits, namely defeating the English He was going to bury the bugger alive, with in battle, albeit the civilised mayhem of foot- boxing gloves on and a video nasty playing, so ball. that the priapic sod could die of frustration. “Bodie!” hissed, this time, goose-like, Bodie Doyle nudged him, not with his arm, but with thought delightedly. It was working, oh, how it his hips, face alight with the sheer joy of getting was working! He risked a glance over his shoul- Bodie hot under the collar. It was, when all was der and had the utterly, profoundly soul-inspir-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 OWN GOAL £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ing sight of Doyle, Raymond Doyle, blushing red bido, so that his groin forced Bodie to cup the enough to put a lobster to shame. Well, under sweet hardness of his cock. the circumstances, there was only one thing to Bodie pulled his hand back as if burnt, only do, and he did it. Under cover of the open flaps to discover that with Doyle leaning forward like of Doyle’s winter coat, he squeezed, and not in- that and his own hand twisted up behind him, nocently, either. he couldn’t move. Every time he wiggled his hand “Bodie…” whispered this time, close to him. to get it free, Doyle wiggled his hips to keep him He realised that Doyle had leant forward to hide trapped. How the hell was he going to get out of what he was doing, perhaps to protect them both this? They were marooned in a sea of heaving from a fate worse than death—discovered in a bodies, not one of which was heaving for the crowd of Glaswegians, sullying the sacred glory same reason Doyle was heaving and humping of beating England by being English and beat- against him. The hair on the back of his neck ing something else entirely. He squeezed again, pricked up—rather like Doyle, if you think about imagining in lurid detail the look of fury and it—when the small, square man of the spilled embarrassment that must have been turning bovril turned to look at him. Bodie swallowed, Doyle puce by now. A burble of laughter escaped hard. Doyle pushed against him, hard, and in him, coinciding rather well with the English on more ways than one. the field losing possession of the ball to the Scots “You little prick!” he hissed at Doyle. and the English behind him losing possession “We’ll have less of the little,” answered Doyle, of his balls, too. playing right into his hand, filling it with some- “Bodie…” Christ, if Doyle got any closer, he’d thing that was less a little prick and more a huge be on top of him. He chortled: he’d never seen cock. This was the best game they’d ever had, Ray Doyle this embarrassed before, never. Oh, even beating that time Bodie had goosed him in wait until he told Murphy. There was a good the back of Cowley’s car all the way from

£3£3£3 fifty quid riding on this. Whitehall to suburbia, trying to make him 94 “I’ve got you now, Ray,” he said, triumphant. squawk. Not that he had had any intention of £3£3£3 “One up to me, right?” doing so: Bodie would’ve stopped if he had. “Oh, yeah, definitely one up to you,” Doyle Another frantic Bodie glance around. The breathed in his ear. rumbling, roaring crowd was blessedly more And that was when Bodie realised it really obsessed with the action on the pitch than the was one up to him: and that one up felt sur- action on the terraces. Bodie breathed a sigh of prisingly like a prick. Tentatively, his fingers did relief, for once in his life glad that England were a bit of walking and found, sure enough, that having the pants beaten off them—which was he didn’t have Doyle by the short and curlies as probably not the best turn of phrase, consider- he had thought—he had him by the long and ing the position he was in. Then he noticed that straight. Actually, he amended, his fingers do- the bovril bearer was sneaking furtive glances ing a rather more detailed reconnaissance, long at him and he became acutely aware of the fact and curved to the left a bit… that he was standing in the middle of forty thou- Doyle pressed harder into the hand that was sand people, live television cameras and swarms exploring him with all the confidence of a con- of blue-clad bobbies. With another man’s denim- vent girl, grinning to himself at the expres- wrapped cock in his hand. “Where are your sion that must have been written all over brains, Doyle?” Bodie’s face. The bugger should know better Doyle lifted up a little, then resettled him- than to feel him up like that; that would never self, Bodie’s hand fitting his balls like a glove. embarrass him. It would get a rise out of him, “You’re holding them, mate.” but not precisely the kind of rise Bodie was “Yeh, that’s fucking obvious. Get them back after. Unless, of course, there had been a ker- in your head, mate.” nel of truth in Bodie’s limp-wristed lisping. He “Nah, like them better where they are.” wiggled a bit, for if the wrist was limp, the And to prove his point, he rotated his hips, hand certainly wasn’t and neither was his undulating his balls in the palm of Bodie’s hands cock. He bent his knees as much as his li- like worry eggs. And like worry eggs, Bodie

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 OWN GOAL £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 couldn’t resist rolling them, rubbing them, and if he didn’t stop it right now, he was going smoothing them—realising what he was doing to end up on his knees. And not in prayer, al- and jerking forward, instead of jerking off Doyle. though it was a form of worship… “Doyle!” he The man beside him was still glancing round hissed. furtively, but now he seemed to be trying to ei- Doyle’s reply was lost in the sudden agonised ther dance a jig or do some other bizarre Scot- roar of the crowd as England took possession of tish ritual. And behind his back, Doyle seemed the ball and went streaking down the pitch to to be doing a bizarre dance of his own, bucking try to score. and rubbing, trying to find Bodie’s hand. “Doyle!” Bodie, with some of that common sense Doyle answered, not in words. He grabbed Cowley claimed he didn’t possess, was having Bodie’s right hand and hauled it round Bodie’s none of it. Which was, in a way, precisely the back with the practised ease of an ex-copper same situation Doyle was in, although Ray was and shoved his cock into it. trying very hard to do something about that. Bodie, like the English team, was left rather Almost groaning, Bodie wondered how the hell unexpectedly in possession of the balls and on he’d managed to get himself into this pickle, even his way to scoring… as his hand itched to grab Doyle’s gherkin again. Doyle, unlike the Scottish team, was more “Bodie…” whispered into his ear, Doyle’s groin than happy to lose possession, under the cir- pressed into his back, and it certainly wasn’t cumstances. He leaned forward, looking simply either a pen or a roll of mints in his pocket. as if he were as drunk as a puggy, collapsing Bodie considered stepping forward, but there forward onto the poor sod in front of him. The were two disadvantages to that. The first was poor sod in front of him was wondering how he that it would expose Doyle, so to speak and the was going to get out of this without being second was that if he were to step forward in sodomised in front of forty thousand people. As this sardine tin of a crowd, then he was going to the cock thrust through the tunnel of his fist to £3£3£3 be doing to the man in front of him what Doyle nudge the small of his back, he started won- 95 was doing to him. The bovril man chose this dering how he could get through this and be £3£3£3 moment to bend down in a funny corkscrew kind sodomised in front of forty thousand people of motion, grabbing a large and empty bottle of without also being arrested. Doyle’s cock was what had once been the kind of wine that hot in his hand and Doyle’s breath was hotter doubled as a paint stripper. in his ear, his own cock refusing to be ignored. The movement caught Doyle’s attention for a He might be able to tell his brain that this was second, then he realised what he was seeing. just a joke that was getting too far out of hand— The funny little man beside Bodie was surrepti- or should that be too far into his hand?—but he tiously—and with the willfully blind co-opera- always did his best thinking with his balls and tion of the people around him—unzipping his they were very busily telling him that this was a fly and pulling his prick out. Now this seemed very satisfactory position to be in, indeed. to Doyle to be an excellent idea. Making sure he Doyle, on the other hand, was finding Bodie’s was still close to Bodie, he pulled his open coat hand to be less than sufficient and the position forward, less for privacy and more as a wind- considerably less than satisfactory. There was break. Then he followed the best local custom a bitterly cold draft snaking icy fingers round to he’d seen in his life and unzipped his fly, his pry into the warmth of Bodie’s hand and every hand leaping in to grab his cock, although the rain-laden tendril was putting a considerable relief he sought was quite a bit different from damper on his passion, not to mention his cock. the bovril man. All in all, the whole situation was in danger of Bodie, having no idea what he was about to collapsing, and that was something he wasn’t land himself with, decided that this was the about to let happen. After all, it wasn’t every moment to get the situation in hand, before he day that one of Bodie’s jokes backfired submitted to the temptation and got himself in so…handily, as it were. Public sex had always hand. All this humping the small of his back been one Doyle’s little hobbies, indulged in on with a big prick was definitely getting to him, those rare occasions when a man could get away

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 OWN GOAL £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 with it without being caught. And in a crowd of spine, Doyle peered over the black-clothed Scotsmen besotted with their team playing a shoulder and there, sure enough, visible even game with a ball, they weren’t about to be pay- from this angle, was the rolled line of Bodie’s ing any attention to a team of two playing with prick, tenting the cords that were of such an balls, were they? Especially not if he were to appropriate colour—bone. He lowered himself stumble back from Bodie thusly, then stagger again, displaying the limpness that was so typi- forward with drunken sway, coming to rest nice cal of the drunk, while he hid the hardness that and cosy and hidden flat against Bodie’s back. was even more typical of his cock. Swaying with Bodie heard the sigh of relief against his neck the crowd, he pressed himself into Bodie, his and groaned as his brief moment of relief went prick wet and slick. Gesticulating wildly, as if running gaily out the door. He had, for a foolish to comment on the game racing up and down instant, thought that Doyle pulling away like the muddy pitch, he finally stuck his hand in- that—he refused out of hand to use the term side his coat, through the hole in the pocket, ‘withdraw’, just in case Doyle read his mind and down to his cock. He grasped it lovingly, rolling got any more ideas than he already had—sig- it against the sensitive skin of Bodie’s back, his nalled the end to this particularly excessive joke. hips moving faster and faster. To do this, in public, when they could wait until Christ, but he couldn’t believe it! The randy they got back to the safety and privacy of the toad was fucking him, as near as spit. And was hotel room, where all they had to worry about that spit making Doyle so slick or was it pre- was Cowley hearing them… Maybe Doyle had a cum? If the bastard came on him… Actually, point. Well, judging by the prong poking his forget all thoughts about killing him, he’d prob- back, Doyle certainly had a point, and a con- ably come himself. He shifted, trying not to cut siderable one at that, but perhaps he also had of the circulation to some rather important bits the right idea: Bodie would take his chance in a of his anatomy, even that slight movement send-

£3£3£3 crowd this size any day, before he risked the ing waves of pleasure through him. His groan 96 beady, all-seeing eyes of his boss. But then, blended in perfectly with the bereft sigh of the £3£3£3 Cowley wasn’t likely to have them arrested and— crowd as the game took a turn for the worse, Doyle moved, once, a sinuous slither of his hips, but Bodie’s game was taking an even bigger turn and that was when Bodie realised that whilst for the worse. Doyle was pressing into him, the he had been off weighing the pros and cons, feel of his body a joy and delight, and some- Doyle had been weighing anchor, pulling Bodie’s thing that was in danger of sending him over shirt free from the moorings of his trousers. It the edge into making an extremely embarrass- was also when he realised that where to have ing mess of the front of his trousers. The bovril sex had become a moot point the instant that man had put the now half-full bottle back down blunt point slid against his bare skin. on the concrete terrace and Bodie wondered Doyle grinned into Bodie’s shoulder when he about it. After all, if it was socially acceptable in heard the stifled shout of surprised arousal from the déclassé world of football to use a bottle his mate. He moved his hips again, using his when Nature called when someone was about pose of drunkenness to sling his arms around to score, why couldn’t Bodie do the same thing Bodie and hold on all the tighter so that he could when he was about to score himself? Biting his rub his cock all the harder on soft skin. He was, lip, he conceded that wouldn’t work, a discreet at that moment, inordinately glad that he had pee being a lot less noticeable than some bloke had the ’flu last week and had nabbed Bodie’s standing there wanking. Of course, Doyle didn’t winter coat to protect himself from the cold. seem to be having any problems on that score: Right now, that coat was protecting him from a he didn’t seem to be having problems with scor- hell of a lot more than the cold, most especially ing at all. Bodie shuffled from right foot to left, from prying eyes. Bodie, poor sod, had no such from left to right, and realised that not only was protection, either from prying eyes or prying cock that not helping him any, he was doing it in and had to stand there and take it. Going up on rhythm with Doyle, who was draped over him tiptoes, shivering with pleasure as his cock like a flag, all droop and no zest—if you were to scraped along the pleasurable bumps of Bodie’s exclude what was going on under that greatcoat.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 OWN GOAL £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 The crowd were making loud booings at the hands and into Doyle’s, as Bodie stood there, English back, while Doyle was making some helplessly unable to touch himself, helplessly loud noises into his personal Englishman’s back. unable to resist the mounting pleasure. He could feel himself on Bodie’s skin, the shirt Unfortunately, mounting was out of the ques- and jacket tucked down over him to keep the tion, although if it hadn’t been for the differ- heat in and to hold him snug and tight. Bodie’s ence in their heights being compounded by the skin was satin smooth, the shirt crisp cotton, lay-out of the terraced stand, Doyle would prob- contrast for his cock. He nibbled on Bodie’s neck, ably have tried that. In that case, they should enjoying the taste of him, enjoying the smell of be thankful for small mercies and insurmount- him—loving that he was doing this out in the able difficulties. Still, Doyle thought it a pity that open, in public, a huge crowd unwitting wit- they couldn’t ball at the football: it would have nesses to him and Bodie. This was something been the cherry on top. Although, with his he’d fantasized over many a night, picturing wealth of experience, it might be closer to the himself and Bodie, but never quite like this, with truth to say that the cherry would be on bot- a crowd cheering them on… tom… He felt Doyle fall more heavily against him, The idea of Bodie being on bottom, fucked, felt the teeth nipping at him, fulfilling something set him on fire. He thrust harder, letting the he hadn’t dared even acknowledge, always mak- heat of Bodie’s body stroke him, letting himself ing sure that Doyle thought the camping up and get closer to coming, letting Bodie feel every inch the goosing to be just good mates having a lark. of him. He was promising Bodie what he’d be Unless he was very much mistaken, he was getting when they had the privacy to do it, show- about to have a lot more than a lark spilled down ing him every fraction that would end up in his his back. He wiggled, bouncing on his feet as if hole. He knew he was moaning, knew he was he were trying to see over the short man in front making a terrible racket, but so was everyone of him, as if he were interested in the passing of else. It sounded as if he might not be the only £3£3£3 the ball back and forth in front of him, when all one about to score, nor the only one about to 97 he could think about was the passing of cock shoot for the goal. Another second and he’d be £3£3£3 and balls behind him, lush and ripe and hot on there, just another second… his skin. His cock was fit to burst, aching to be The roar went up from the crowd as the cum touched, so he shoved his hands into his pocket, went up Bodie’s back, drowning out Doyle’s only to find that there wasn’t enough room in shout of triumph. The burst of semen seared those tight cords to play pocket pool, not after him, plummeting down into his cock, making all those plates of shortbread and Athole brose. his balls as heavy as the weight lumbered on He bounced a bit more, giving Doyle all the fric- his back where Doyle, spent, had collapsed. tion he needed, luxuriating in the play of cock “Move, you bastard,” he whispered, desperately, across his skin and the only flanking play he his voice hoarse. “Come on, Doyle, just because was interested in was the game Doyle’s hands you got to come doesn’t mean you get to stop. were playing with his arse. His own cock was Come on, come on…” threatening to split his cords, caught tight by Doyle, however, having regained his senses the fabric and he was aching with the need that was calmly standing up, even if his knees were was being fed by the feel of Doyle all around trembling. Casually, under cover of the coat, he him, Doyle muttering in his ear, Doyle lolling in tucked himself in, tugged Bodie’s shirt and ‘drunken’ proximity, Doyle hard against him, jacket down, grinning as he thought of how itchy Doyle’s hands promising him where his cock and sticky Bodie was going to be in about three would come later… A strangled groan bled from seconds flat. Bodie, as the same sound rose from this half of Right on the mark, Bodie started scratching the ground. The mass were upset by the loss of at the icky patch on his back, where his shirt action on the field, as control passed from the was sticking to him. “Give us the coat, Doyle,” home side to the England squad, but Bodie he muttered, hands crossed in front of his trou- didn’t even see that happen, his eyes glazed as sers to hide the bulge, his face as morose as the his own control slipped perilously from his disappointed football fans all round them.

£3£3£3 98 £3£3£3

FOOTBRIDGE CALLY DONIA

£3£3£3 98 BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, THE VOICES DRONED ON, perfectly if Doyle was rapidly succumbing to the won- £3£3£3 matching the décor, darkly unamused Victorian derful world of alcoholic haze, then Cowley was wainscoting topped by truly hideous red flocked quite rapidly succumbing to his own personal wallpaper, the ostentation of gold smirking away decanter of whisky. Which was, Bodie noted with to itself in the glow of crystal chandelier. The a not altogether theatrical gulp, almost empty. glasses on the table were glowing away to them- Pity the poor liver, he thought to himself, as he selves, too, reflecting the overhead lights and did a quick action-replay of the day, catalogu- the claret in the decanter. ing when and where they—meaning Cowley— What little claret was left in the decanter, this had eaten and drunk. Lunch was supposed to far into the game. have been at one, but that had been cancelled Bodie checked his cards again, frantically because of that bloody emergency security meet- searching through a mis-spent youth full of card ing. He really wished these people would get their games to remember the rules of the refined art timing right and at least wait until after he’d of bridge. Unfortunately, it was looking as if it had a bite to eat. But instead, there had been wouldn’t matter one whit what he remembered— all that information leaked by some turncoat Doyle had never known anything in the first inside the People’s Party…Something Grandi- place to remember. They were relying on their ose and Important. There had been so many undetectable patented shorthand, Bodie telling names and pseudonyms and changed titles fly- Doyle what to play and when, but as the level ing round the meeting that he’d actually lost inside the decanter had fallen, so had Doyle’s track of who was threatening whom. At least comprehension, dropping rapidly to match two European groups and one Irish group were Bodie’s skill at the game. A filthy chuckle from currently after Cowley, which was more animos- North startled him, making him lose track of ity than event that immovable mountain could the play for a second. ignore. It seemed that they were less than Mind you, he really didn’t know why he was thrilled with the way Cowley had managed to even bothering trying to keep track of the game: put several political cells out of business before

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 the bombing season had even started. They one usually got to hear this many years into his seemed to think it just wasn’t cricket to stop exile South. “Oh, aye, he had us well an’ truly them before they’d even been able to blow any- taken in, there’s no a doubt about that. But I’ll thing up. The fact that Cowley had been crow- tell ye something,” Cowley said, leaning over to ing over the coup like a well-laid rooster hadn’t pat Bodie’s arm in the manner of a confidant, exactly helped, either. albeit a rather soused one. “Aye, I’ll tell ye some- He grinned to himself, unnoticed by the in- thing for nothing. The one that had us all fooled creasingly befuddled occupants of the table. was this yin here. There’s me, stuck ahint the Missing lunch—and tea, now that he stopped border in a country that’d give its eye-teeth to to think about it—had been worth it, just to see get their hands on me, an’ the only passport Cowley’s face when the order—the order—had our lot’ve got is ane for a wumman. So they get come from On High to assign himself a pair of me all dressed up like a dog’s dinner, wi’ all our minders, especially on tonight of all nights. He contacts donating all sorts o’ wee bit bauchles, glanced, carefully inconspicuous, around the till I ended up lookin’ like somethin’ that room, satisfying himself yet again that none of belanged underneath the arches, not even on these few old farts still nodding over their night- the streets!” caps was capable of even peeing unassisted, let Doyle’s foot was nudging his under the table alone assassinating Cowley. And Cowley, he and Bodie suddenly found his cards absolutely snickered into his own properly non-alcoholic- fascinating, even if everyone else had forgotten someone-has-to-stay-sober-on-duty drink, theirs. He didn’t dare look up, for he knew that dour, unflappable Cowley, was getting well-oiled if he did, he’d burst out laughing and then he and letting all sorts of secrets slip out… might never hear the end of what promised to “Och, it was never like that,” he was saying be a story that he could get free drinks out of now, interrupting Bodie’s train of thought. “Thon for a month. Murphy alone would keep him float- yin was never sly enough to pull the wool over ing in beer just to hear what the Old Man had £3£3£3 my eyes like that, Allan.” looked like tonight, with his tie pulled askew 99 Thon yin? Bodie thought to himself. Thon yin? and his hair all over the place. He sensed Doyle’s £3£3£3 Cowley was getting seriously pickled if he was own rising hysteria and vowed not to look. He coming up with things like ‘thon yin’ instead of could feel Ray staring at him, willing him to look ‘that one’. If the old language was creeping back up, to let them share the joke. But he didn’t out, then perhaps a few juicy secrets would be dare. He was perilously close to losing all sem- as well… blance of control and one of them had to stay “…but that’s not what happened, is it though, on duty until Lucas and McCabe showed up at George?” was being said by the other man at midnight to take over the obbo from the boring the table, Cowley’s old friend from days of yore, safety of their car. Allan Jenkinson. Bodie looked at him carefully, He wasn’t going to look, didn’t matter how trying yet again to place what it was that he much Doyle fidgeted or wiggled or willed him, recognised in the man. He knew that he didn’t he wasn’t going to look. Not when Cowley was actually know him, but there was something on getting to the good bits… the tip of his tongue… Jenkinson was a big man, “I mean, c’n you credit that? Me, doin’ thon, making even Bodie feel a bit on the delicate side, an’ in public, all dickied up to within an inch o’ inundated by ripples of muscle and excellent my life? But it gets worse, doesn’t, Allan you sly tailoring. His hair was greying now, but it had devil, you. He waits until we’re oan the train, a once been a rich auburn, all the red fading away matter o’ hours yet afore we c’n get aff in a place with age, as it had with Cowley. He looked back where they’re no after my guts for garters. We’re and forth between the two friends, wondering locked up in wan o’ thon tiny wee cabins they about all the tales of derring-do he’d heard about call sleepers, wi’ wan bed. We were baith fair their days in the organisation that didn’t even worn out, so we agreed to squeeze oursel’s intae have a name. this wee bit bed. So there I am, still wi’ this wig Another helping of rich laughter, Cowley’s an’ a’ the rest on, when this yin here decides voice now deeper and far more Scots than any- tae tell me that he’s a poof.”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Jenkinson was chuckling into his claret, re- That was almost Bodie’s undoing; Cowley, as membering the incident with obvious glee. Bodie befitted this being Burn’s Night, was wearing could hear the muffled laughter coming from his kilt. Doyle, the last remnants of sobriety obviously Then something happened that was Bodie’s keeping him from yielding completely to utter undoing: the foot that had been tickling his knee hilarity. He could just picture how Doyle would slipped higher. A lot higher. So high, in fact, that be looking, knew that expression from old and Doyle was in extreme danger of becoming ex- he knew, too, what would happen if he dared tremely indiscreet. As Bodie determinedly con- give in to temptation and let himself look. He trolled himself, the foot continued perilously wasn’t going to look, he wasn’t going to look, he upwards, no longer in danger of becoming in- was going to just keep on listening to Cowley, discreet, but actually being so. The only dan- filing it all away and not stopping the flow of ger, Bodie realised, was if Doyle tickled him now, true confessions by falling apart at the seams. Bodie was liable to end up in a most embar- He was not going to remind Cowley that he was rassing situation. Which is what the wicked little with two of his agents. There was no way on toad has in mind, Bodie thought to himself, God’s green earth that he was going to risk shut- knowing his partner only too well. Bodie, hang- ting Cowley up, not now. And he absolutely, ing on every incriminating and sotten word that unequivocally and irrefutably was not going to was pouring from Cowley’s mouth, glanced over look at Ray. at Doyle, expecting to meet an expression that That was when he felt the foot that had been matched his for amusement. nudging his slither up to tickle at his knee. He Instead, he found that Doyle was staring at bit the inside of his mouth. He stared at the him with a hunger usually reserved for stacked table. He took a deep breath. He pretended to blondes. Obviously, Doyle had decided that here play a card in a game that had been abandoned in Cowley’s stuffy club with Cowley’s old friend

£3£3£3 by everybody else, and most of all, he willed who happened to be gay and a horde of terror- 100 Doyle to pack it in and Cowley to keep on going. ists possibly outside the door waiting to twep £3£3£3 At least part of his prayers was answered. their belovèd boss, it was the perfect time and “So I’m lyin’ there, my backside hinging out place to indulge in one of their endless games of the bed, rigid wi’ fear that this hulkin’ great camping, of one-upmanship to see who would lummox had designs on my virtue…” chicken-out first. Doyle, his bloody partner, was “Oh, never your virtue, George. Just your looking at him as if he were prime beef still on bum!” the hoof. And Cowley, his bloody boss, that bas- “Aye, an’ the way your hands were wanderin’, tion of normalcy, was red-faced and laughing, I was beginnin’ tae think ye might end up Jenkinson hanging onto his arm like a limp- gettin’…” wristed wall-flower. “Getting you in the end, eh, George? I know Doyle’s bare foot pressed into his crotch, it was wicked of me, but it was worth it just to massaging him like a hand, daring him to back see the expression on your face! I’ve never seen down or up the ante, sense of humour let loose anyone blush so red, never! And when I put my by too much booze. It occurred to him, in the arm around you to stop you from falling out of surreality of this situation, to wonder how—and bed when we were coming into that station…” why—Doyle had got his shoe off. Of course, the Cowley spluttered, the whisky trying hard to rational part of his mind gibbered at him, try- do the impossible: go down the wrong way when ing to deny the bizarreness of the evening: a Scotsman is the one doing the drinking. “I Doyle’d been wearing those new leather mocca- nearly jumped right out o’ my skin, didn’t I? sin things he’d found in Sacha’s. They’d be eas- First time in ma whole life I actually screamed, ily enough slipped off. And he’d been fidgeting och, but it was funny, now that I’m lookin’ back enough all night to have worked a sock off with- on it. No’ tae mention,” an all-embracing sweep out anyone being any the wiser. Bodie was just of his hand showed off the grandeur of his assuming that the sock was gone—it seemed clothes, so appropriate for the occasion, “dressed the kind of thing the hedonistically wicked bas- like a woman.” tard would do, all the better to be able to get

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Bodie going enough for Bodie to embarrass him- thought about the very old-fashioned looks he’d self thoroughly. Another one of Doyle’s bloody been getting from Doyle, for doing things like jokes, one that would get Bodie in trouble but pinching him when they were boarding leave Doyle to come up smelling like roses. Brownie’s boat or when Cowley had been driv- The little bastard never tired of dropping him ing away when they’d been talking to ‘Foren- right in it, did he? Although that was patently sics’ after the geriatric car had been blown to clear the way Doyle was getting at him like an bits. And here was the little prick trying to press amorous octopus—octoped?—so that he’d wind his pants up his arse with his toes, and play- up leaping six feet into the air, squealing about ing with his cock and balls, all with Cowley having his virtue attacked while the boss was looking on. Oh, unfair, Raymond my lad, he sitting there relating the same story and with thought, that’s just not on. the man who had played that particular joke on But he wouldn’t think about just why it was Cowley also sitting there as innocent as a new- bothering him so much, wouldn’t let himself born babe. And Bodie would make his protests acknowledge it was anything more than a natu- and Cowley would land on him for making stu- ral genital reaction to direct stimulation that was pid jokes at the expense of his friend and Doyle getting him hard. He’d had that reaction before, would sit there nice as bloody ninepence, laugh- on bikes and that time he’d gone riding out in ing himself sick. Typical bloody Doyle joke… the country with Doyle and those two girls. Just Bodie glanced over at his partner, taking in his brainless cock thinking for him, that was the flushed cheeks and bright eyes, not to men- all. Just a joke getting out of hand, and he’d tion the ostentatiously fatuous ‘I really fancy turn it on Doyle, he’d teach Doyle to tease him you, darling’ look on his face. He shifted slightly, like this. Yeh, he’d teach Doyle to give him a wondering if Doyle was still sober enough to have taste of something he was too scared to admit any idea of the risk of what he was doing, or if he wanted; then he could hide it away again, the idiot hadn’t got past the fun of making his where he could pretend it didn’t exist. For once £3£3£3 partner squirm in front of Cowley. he admitted he wanted it, it would kill him to 101 Toes flexed against him, the rounded ball of have to work beside Doyle day after day after £3£3£3 foot pressing into his balls, perfect pressure day and never touch more than as a mate mess- under the table. No, the stupid prat didn’t know. ing around for a joke. The idiot was just tickling him the way he’d been Yeh. He’d definitely show Doyle. And that way doing before, trying to make him laugh and since he could concentrate so fiercely on it that he’d he wasn’t laughing, Doyle would just get more never even see why his heart was beginning to outrageous until Bodie made a bigger fool of ache harder than his balls were. His eyes went himself. Well, maybe he’d teach Doyle a lesson, cold, the way they always did when he was go- the little pricktease. Turn the table, turn the ing to pretend that it was all in fun, but was joke back on him, the way they always ponced actually going for the jugular. He remembered around until someone cried ‘uncle’. Yeh, that’s his face feeling like this, this same set expres- what he’d do. sion, when he’d been toying with Preston’s wife. He looked up, to let Doyle catch the match- He shifted violently, crossing his legs, displac- ing glint of humour in his own eyes, to let him ing Doyle’s foot from its cosy reconnoitring of know that he knew what the joke was and that his cock. Face cold, he looked up, ready to kill the game had nothing to do with bridge, not Doyle with his own hurtful joke. now. The foot moved again, until its instep was And got the shock of his life instead. Doyle’s lifting his balls up to be held tightly by his trou- eyes were at half-mast, his mouth half open, sers, Doyle’s toes burrowing between his shirt half undone, debauchery-in-waiting. This cheeks, teasing and taunting and promising. was not the kind of look one expected to see on Bodie gulped: he’d never expected Doyle to take one of Her Majesty’s agents, but then again, this the joke this far. It was one thing for them to mizzled haziness was not what one expected on goose each other, the way he’d been doing all Cowley’s face either. Flustered, Bodie looked week since that bloody gun had been nicked. away from the people at his table, taking in the He felt a bit of outrage rise in him when he rest of the room, suddenly feeling like a waif in

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 a Fellini film—a film that Fellini had made while And there was that look on Doyle’s face. Bodie definitely under the influence. The four of them turned it over and over in his mind, examining at the table were now the only people in the it, trying to pigeon-hole it into a nice tidy little room, the others either departed or finally nod- box. It didn’t fit, not one of them. Oh, he knew ded off and snoring with polite quietude in their the look of arousal, had seen it often enough high backed winged chairs. There wasn’t even a when they’d double-dated, but… Wait a minute. member of staff around to lend some credence He had seen it before, that time, what, a couple of reality to a situation that was making him as of months ago, when they’d ended up taking dizzy as the booze had obviously made his other both their birds back to Doyle’s because Bodie three bridge partners. Casually, he glanced back had just been forced to flit again by the sadists up at Doyle, no longer at all sanguine as to what who ran Accommodations. He’d caught that look he was going to find. He was prepared for either on Doyle’s face when they’d all been in the liv- the familiarly filthy chuckle with an expression ing room together. He’d been on the sofa with that proclaimed ‘gotcha!’, or for a look that would his girl, kissing her, her skirt up around her have made Marge Harper run for the bedroom, waist, her legs around his hips and Doyle had whips and garters in hand. been on the other settee, his own girl wrapped He got, instead, the truly baffling sight of a around him like a second skin. But Doyle had drunken Doyle rapidly composing himself, vis- been staring, eating Bodie alive with his eyes. ibly willing sobriety back in to the wine cellar At the time, Bodie’d simply stared back, feast- his brain had become. ing equally on the eroticism of seeing Doyle so “Ray?” close to having sex. He’d even caught a glimpse He was ignored, Cowley swapping tales with of Doyle’s hard-on, before Doyle’s blonde had Jenkinson, Doyle too busy shuffling cards and had a fit of the coys and dragged him off up- fidgeting. He was, Bodie realised, putting his stairs. But that’s where he’d seen that look be-

£3£3£3 shoe back on. It ran through his mind that fore, the night when Doyle had been staring at 102 Doyle was going to be embarrassed as hell, him while making love to someone else. £3£3£3 having to leave with one sock on and one sock No. The night when Doyle had been staring off. It was, after all, one thing to prepare one- at him while he was using someone else’s body self to play footsie under the table, but quite to make love to Bodie. That’s what that look was. another to hide the evidence thereafter. “Fucking hell!” Smugly pleased with himself, he tallied up the Even Cowley straightened his drunken sight running score they had of who had out- to look at him for that one. “I beg you pardon, brazened whom in their recurring game of Bodie?” he muttered, voice thicker than whisky teasing each other. Checking his watch, he was ever was. even more pleased to note that it was twenty “Em, nothing, sir. Just sort of, well, slipped to two, which meant that shortly Lucas would out, sir.” be outside, sitting in a chilly, stuffy car and “Which is more than we can say for that night he’d be able to go home. Not to mention get I tried to get you to come back to my flat with Doyle into the car and crow about how he’d me, eh, George?” Jenkinson said. “Oh, George, won this particular little skirmish. He grinned George,” he went on, in the best Pirates of to himself, knowing full well that Doyle would Penzance voice Bodie had heard in years, “when sulk and huff for a while, but then they’d start will you make my heart glad and come live with the game all over again. me a life of debauchery and sin?” He could afford to be magnanimous, for after “Ach, Allan, you know fine well we’d never be all, he’d won. happy thegither. I mean, man, how could I ever On the verge of looking up again, he thought leave my belovèd for you?” that over again. He’d won, by doing precisely If he’d had the attention to spare, Bodie would nothing. Not like Doyle to just give in like that, have fallen off his chair in shock at the sight of without so much as a dirty joke or a last ditch Cowley camping it up. It was obviously true what effort to go that last step beyond anything Bodie they said about the Scottish sense of humour had the brass neck to do. then—they only let it show after you’d known

Ray, caressing him. His cock twitched again, guilt trip for a month afterwards, but that wasn’t £3£3£3 putting in its tuppenceworth on the subject of exactly a clarion of comfort to the poor sod whose 103 Ray Doyle and caresses. head was bouncing in the gutter. And if he, £3£3£3 Bodie looked longingly at the claret that still Bodie, didn’t do something and bloody quick at twinkled merrily in the decanter, wishing it was that, it’d be his head bouncing in the gutter and late enough for him to be off duty and have a Doyle storming off to have a good fit of depres- bit of Dutch courage. Not long now, but still… sion. He faced something else, something he knew But what the hell was he supposed to say? he did to survive: he lied to himself, constantly When Ray got started like this, you could beg and efficiently, conspiring with the coward forgiveness and all he’d do would be to prolong within to protect himself from things that would the agony for your cheek. Nothing you could cause pain beyond enduring or to barrier him- say would be right, all of it just more faggots on self from horrors he couldn’t escape. And had the fire of Doyle’s righteous indignation, to keep he been lying to himself about Doyle, all those him warm until the chill of pain could wear off. times he had promised himself that he was only Christ, but look at the set of that jaw! Bodie looking at him that way because he was trying was in trouble, serious trouble, unless he could to see what it was all the birds saw in him? And come up with a way of getting Doyle to see that had he been lying all those times when he’d he wasn’t being rejected. pinched Doyle’s bum and claimed it was only to So if he couldn’t say something, he’d have to see him jump? And what about all the times do something. And they say that lovers always he’d managed it so that they would end up do what they want done to themselves, so he’d double-dating? just heel his shoes off and play footsie with Oh, yes, he was a bloody good liar, especially Doyle, doing unto him as he had done unto oth- when it kept him from admitting that he was ers and… He was wearing lace-ups, brand new, attracted to his partner. Cowley’s attitude to tight lace-ups. The only way he’d get them off over-involvement between agents notwithstand- would be if he were to go under the table and ing, he’d always known that with his proclivi- undo them, and even Cowley, soused as he was,

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 would notice that. ‘What are you doing?’ he’d while Cowley laughed and made sure, with un- be asked, and he didn’t much fancy having to expected gentleness, that Allan knew that his answer, ‘Making arrangements to seduce Doyle attitude hadn’t changed, that there would be into sodomy and fellatio, sir.’ Although judging no seduction between them. And all the while, by the tolerance being shown to old Jenkinson, Bodie sat there, making sure that Doyle knew that might not be the problem he’d always that his attitude had changed and that there thought it would be. But even if Cowley let him would be a seduction here, albeit mutual. off with that, Doyle’d brain him, thinking it was The foot was kneading his groin again, strong just an utterly nasty joke, mocking him for his toes pressing him just so. He looked at Doyle, attraction. made sure that Ray was held by his gaze, and He stared at Doyle, willing his partner to look then he shifted in his seat, echoing the move at him, as Doyle had done to him earlier. The he’d made before, but trapping Ray this time, difference, this time, was that Doyle responded, his crossed legs holding Doyle tight against him glowering with all the ire at his command, which whilst the arousal grew. He could see it in Ray’s was about equal to the entire NATO forces, if eyes as it registered that Bodie was getting hard, Bodie were any judge. Refusing to bow before his cock pulsing up underneath the arch of the fury, he let it show on his face that he wasn’t Doyle’s foot. He spared a thought for how the messing about any more, and that there was hell they were going to get out of this room and more than a little heat in him too, although it into the car without someone noticing that he had nothing to do with anger. He reached out had a pole playing tents in his trousers. He de- with both of his well-shod feet, ignoring Doyle’s cided he’d worry about that later. All he was attempt to pull away, trapping Ray’s right foot, concerned about for the moment was reeling Ray rubbing clumsily. But the message was getting in, hooking him, making sure that the anger through. He could see it, as the suspicion was was erased by arousal.

£3£3£3 born amidst the temper. Could almost see the That, and not being caught by Cowley. 104 thoughts written in the green eyes. Doyle flexed his foot, and Bodie flexed his £3£3£3 Funny, he noticed inconsequentially, how spine as pleasure flooded through him, all of it green Ray’s eyes go in dim light like this. You’d radiating from the taut pressure on his cock, expect them to end up all washed-out grey, but and from the hardness of Doyle’s heel pushing they don’t. Probably temper, making his eyes so against his balls, sweet, sweet pressure. He green. And he has got sexy eyes, hasn’t he? shifted again, trying to rub himself a bit more, Makes me think of what he’d be like in bed, ev- trying for more contact, more stimulation. Doyle ery time I see his eyes so green. Want to see if grinned at him, wickedly, with humour, but they’re that colour when he’s coming… mainly with lust. The foot slid along him, hard, Those green eyes were staring back at him, the inward curve of arch withdrawing until it suspicion and temper both damping down, be- was the outward curve of instep, and the las- ing banked and then all the heat allowed to go civiousness of toes teasing at his arsehole. He’d out of them. Bodie felt the shoe his feet were never regretted anything so much in his life as squeezing go soft and hollow, then there was sitting there in public with Doyle out of reach. heat on him, softness and hardness grazing him, All he wanted now was to grab him and fuck following the curves of the muscles on his leg. them both into oblivion. He didn’t care where, The eyes were still watching him, warily, while not any more. Didn’t matter if it were in his own the foot was caressing him, warmly. Both prom- bed, Doyle’s bed or some bed in a shop window, ise and denial, in the touch and in the look, a but he wanted this man. And for far more than warning that Doyle would ram his tonsils out playing footsie with beneath a game of bridge. his arse if Bodie were just winding him up. Not even Cowley sitting beside him, blue eyes Fanning the cards out, Bodie made great awash in whisky, mattered compared to the need show of mixing them, picking them up, shuf- he had for the promise in those green eyes to be fling them, keeping up a display of mundanity fulfilled. while his whole world changed. Jenkinson was But Doyle was looking away now, saying talking, telling scurrilous tales of past friends, something in reply to a comment from

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Jenkinson and leaving Bodie with nothing but garden, or on the stairs. Glancing at Cowley’s the enflaming pleasure of that sure touch of foot drunken laughter, he decided he’d even settle teasing at the zip of his trousers. And that was for under the table. And if Doyle didn’t stop when Bodie realised that it wouldn’t be enough pressing his arch against him like that, there just to have the body: he wanted the man, too. was a good chance that he’d be coming under He wanted the personality, wanted the passion, the bridge game itself. Floundering for distrac- wanted to possess more than just flesh, gor- tion, he heaved a sigh of relief when his RT went, geous though that flesh surely must be. It was McCabe’s tinny voice informing him, with ill so much less, with Doyle turned away from him, grace, that they were outside and in position. and he had to find a way to get him back. Bodie would kill to be in position right then He checked the table, working out trajecto- and there. He’d kill to be thrust up to his balls ries and remaining unclaimed space beneath in Doyle’s arse, or rammed down to the tonsils it. It would be disastrous to miscalculate and in Doyle’s throat: he wasn’t fussy, not any more. get Cowley, but Jenkinson was just the type to He’d even settle for sitting right here and com- say nothing and then take him up on his ‘offer’ ing in his trousers, as long as he could do it when he least wanted him to. Leaning back in quietly enough for no-one to notice. But, with his seat, ever so casually, he stretched his leg McCabe outside, it meant that he could drag out, his knee pressing into Ray’s inner thigh. Doyle off somewhere and fuck him blind. Al- He poured another drink for Cowley, wanting ways providing he could stand up without cut- the man well and truly pickled, so that nothing ting off the circulation to somewhere very, very that happened here could ever be used to black- important to him at this moment in time. mail him into some job he really didn’t want to Jenkinson, drunk enough to have long since do—such as the Balmoral duty that was com- left discretion behind, looked at them both with ing up next month. A fate worse than death, eyes bright with vicarious desire. “Listen, you that, to be stuck out in the middle of Scottish two,” he whispered, leaning forward, scattering £3£3£3 countryside with Doyle right beside him and not the forgotten bones of their game, “I don’t stand 105 able to touch. For he knew, quite categorically, a chance with old Cross-legged Cowley here, but £3£3£3 that by the time next month rolled in, he and if I did, and I didn’t want to have to wait until I Ray would be what the Americans called ‘an could get him home, I’d take him up onto the item’. He liked the sound of that, the way it made third floor, to the gents. No-one goes there but it seem that they were a single unit. Just like the likes of me and thee, so you’re safe enough, the professional partnership, really, carrying especially at this hour of the night.” over into the private. Doyle squirmed a bit as The men’s toilet wasn’t exactly the romantic Bodie rubbed him with the hard roundness of trysting spot of the year, but at least he could his knee, returning a little of the teasing Doyle get there without coming. He hoped… had been giving him. Feral, Bodie grinned across Jenkinson’s words had barely been uttered be- the table, waiting for Doyle to look up. Green fore Bodie had grabbed Ray by the wrist, drag- eyes met his, and Bodie’s breath stilled. ging him to his feet—his still half-shod feet— He was being eaten alive, mouthful by mouth- and hauling him away from there, cards float- ful, by that gaze. Doyle said nothing, could say ing off like butterflies behind them, and Cowley, nothing, not where they were, but it was a tan- ready to sting like a bee. Bodie caught sight of gible certainty between them, just precisely what the look out of the corner of his eye, and it sud- was going to be done to Bodie. Ray licked his denly hit him, just what a fool he had been. lips, white teeth nipping delicately on lower lip, Cowley, the wiliest of all the old foxes, getting tongue tip coming out to catch a droplet of sweat. stinking drunk, when there were several ter- Bodie gulped, gasping like a guttered fish, his rorist cells after him? Christ, but maybe he did cock threatening his zip, as Doyle threatened need a refresher course with Macklin, if he had his sanity. Christ, but he had to have him. Now. thought that. On the threshold, he hesitated, Not later, not in half an hour, not when they glancing back at the man who had seconded were safely in the privacy of someone’s flat. He’d him out of the SAS before his CO could wreak settle for down the back of the bushes in the havoc on him for his ‘insubordination’, and saw

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 the slow, sly smile. He swallowed, hard. The last to the pressure, backing off in the face of the time the Old Man had turned a blind eye to leashed fury on Doyle’s. “You can pack that crap something as major as this, he had ended up in right now, Bodie. I’m not one of your birds, joining CI5. God help him this time. and if you treat me like a woman, you stupid But then Doyle bumped up against him, hard sod, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you cock nudging at Bodie’s arse, hot breath tick- for breakfast. You got that?” ling the back of his neck. All thoughts of the As the hand on his chest lowered, grabbing future fled him, leaving him with nought but him through his trousers in a grip that was the moment, and Ray. Without speaking, they thrillingly strong, Bodie grinned. He’d always got on the lift, waiting until the doors had shut liked the lack of softness when it was man to before they fell on each other, hands shudder- man, always liked the fact that he didn’t have ing under clothes, mouths sucking on skin, to hold back. And by the look of him, Doyle was cocks grinding together. With a sickening lurch, more than his match. A tiny tube of vaseline lip the lift stopped, then settled and shifted a bit, salve was shoved at him, and words with it. “Get its old bones creaking before the doors opened that on you, mate,” Doyle hissed at him, stop- on a corridor dim and musty, smelling of the ping long enough to bite-kiss him, his free hand ages and of polish, rich wood gleaming under massaging Bodie’s cock through fabric. “You’ll the brass lights and the small-paned windows. need it for where you’re going.” There was a sign, beckoning them discreetly with Bodie yanked his trousers open, shoving its promise of privacy, and it was Doyle who led them and underwear down and out of the way, them as they hastened towards the gents. to cling, cloying, at his knees. It didn’t matter, Inside, it was a vision from a time gone past, for his cock was free, bobbing blindly, search- when Empire ruled and ostentation was sec- ing for somewhere nice to bury itself. Doyle was ond only to quality. Marble pillars, malachite watching, tongue wetting his lips, as Bodie wet

£3£3£3 and slate coloured, soared up to the ceiling; his cock with the glistening gel. “Get your 106 gilded mirrors hung above brass-appointed fucking clothes out of the way,” Bodie said, one £3£3£3 marble sinks. There was a mahogany screen for hand on his cock, the other tangling in Doyle’s gentlemen to hide behind whilst they adjusted hair, “get your sodding clothes out of the way so their carved false teeth or trimmed their mous- I can fuck you.” taches. The cubicles—large enough even for a The trousers were pushed down, and there lady in a hooped skirt, if women had ever been was no underwear to mar Bodie’s first sight of admitted to this club, let alone to the public toi- Doyle, hard, rising up to tap at his belly, cock lets—had bowls of fine white porcelain and over- red and long, the very tip of the head peeking head cisterns of marble to match the pillars. out from the heavy cowl of foreskin. Bodie’s hand Even the pull chains were works of art, formed was rough on him as Doyle was turned, as Gordian knots, with Medusa heads as abruptly, without ceremony, to face the pan- handles. elled wall. Knees came between his, to spread The door swung shut behind them, shutting him, as he had so many criminals and hard men out the modern world and cocooning them in in his day. It was a delectable game between their own world with all the fineries of the past. them, one allowing a soupçon of submission, Getting there had given Bodie time to catch his the other allowing a dash of dominance to spice breath, and his thoughts. His hands, when he this encounter up far beyond the usual fare. took hold of Doyle, were gentle, encouraging Doyle’s buttocks clenched and hollowed, as rather than demanding, kind instead of domi- he gyrated them, a wanton begging for despoil- nant. He dropped light kisses on heavy curls, ment. But nothing could ever spoil this moment, his hands framing Doyle’s face, one thumb Bodie thought, hands glittering with gel palm- stroking softly over the damaged cheekbone. ing Doyle’s round arse. His thumbs sank be- Doyle put his hand firmly on the centre of tween the cheeks, and Ray arched backwards, Bodie’s chest, where the shirt buttons were spreading his buttocks, displaying himself to undone and the skin gleamed faintly in the light Bodie’s hunger. The pink hole waited, winking from the wall sconces. Startled, Bodie yielded coyly with every swivel of Doyle’s hips. So Bodie

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 impaled him with his finger, holding him still, left at home, Bodie. I’m your partner, and it’s fingering him while the muscle loosened. A sec- me who guards your back when we’re on the ond finger, now held rigid, racing in and out, streets. You patronise me, Bodie, and you won’t making the muscle gape with need and Doyle see me for dust.” whimper with impatience. “Didn’t mean to patronise you, Ray. Just like Positioning himself, Bodie used one hand to a bit of kissing and cuddling as well as the rough steady Doyle, the other to steady himself as he stuff, that’s all. Anyway, patronise—you? Sooner pressed his cock home. A stifled scream of sheer chance my arm with Macklin.” pleasure ripped from Ray’s throat as Bodie “As long as you’ve got the message, then…” shoved himself in, and Bodie heard himself echo And Bodie was kissed, with such tenderness it. He wasn’t much taller than Ray, but it was and love that it made him dizzy. Being tall and enough. As he thrust upwards, Ray was lifted broad, being a hard man, the ex-merc, ex-SAS up onto his toes. And if Bodie thrust hard sergeant, no-one had ever cherished him before, enough, if Bodie let the lust carry him, each for- not like this. He’d been pampered, he’d been ward snap of his hips lifted Ray up off his feet, seduced, he’d been fucked into the ground by until it was Bodie’s strength, Bodie’s cock that men who’d subjugated him completely, but he’d was supporting him. never been made to feel so small and safe and Face pressed against the panelling, hands flat serene. Tenderness was drawn from him, slowly, and white on the wood, Bodie thought he’d never to feed Doyle, who fed it back to him, soothing seen anyone so beautiful as Doyle was at that him, elating his spirit the way the sex had elated moment, transformed by the rapture of having his body. Bodie up him. He couldn’t last, not seeing Ray He could definitely, definitely, get addicted like that, not with Ray’s body so hot and tight to this. In fact, as the kiss finally ended, he al- around him. But he wanted to bring Ray with ready was. He leaned forward, unhurried, for him, wanted to time it so that it would happen another kiss, and then another, stopping only £3£3£3 all at once. His right hand clenched itself around when they were both so cold that dressing had 107 Ray’s cock, pumping him hard and fast, as his become a necessity. Bodie shocked himself al- £3£3£3 own cock was doing to Ray’s arse, filling him, most into running, when he realised what he leaving him empty, only to ram back up him. was doing: holding Doyle by the hand whilst Rough, certainly rough, but all the better for using one of the soft cotton towels to wipe the the trust between them that they could let pas- seeping cum—his own seeping cum—from Ray’s sion have its rein. He was biting Ray’s shoul- bum and thighs. He’d never been so far gone in der, could taste the skin and feel the bone, while his life, not even when he’d been a teenager his cock was buried so deep, he couldn’t feel caught in the first insane throes of love. anything at all at the tip, save the channel that It took quite some time, despite the cold, to led straight up to Ray’s heart. He thrust again, get dressed again, for there were so many lonely and again, hand flying, body soaring, as he little places that just had to be touched or kissed pumped and pulsed deep inside Ray, the white- or held, but eventually, they were decent again. ness of his cum lighting up Ray’s insides. Apart, that is, from Doyle’s left foot. Which was Sated, they leaned there, neither one of them naked, markedly so. Whose sock and shoe were able or willing to move, until Bodie finally turned still lying, in mutely snickering knowledge, un- Ray round, lowering the curly head until Ray’s der the bridge table downstairs. mouth was sucking on his nipples, a softly sweet Bodie looked down at the bare foot, then back reprise of the pleasure that had thundered up at Doyle. “We could always say that you had through him. this really chronic case of athlete’s foot and had Ray straightened up in front of him, taking to take your shoes off.” Bodie’s face between his hands exactly as Bodie “On doctor’s orders, you mean?” had done to him earlier. “Time for gentleness “Yeh. I mean, it’s only McCabe who’s out now,” he said, voice hoarse in the aftermath. there, it’s not like it’s Murphy, or someone with “Now that I know you’re not going to treat me a brain, is it? Lucas and McCabe, they’d fall for as if I’m fragile. I’m not the little woman to be a story like that. Wouldn’t they?”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 FOOTBRIDGE £3£3£3 Cally Donia £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “Probably. If it wasn’t for the fact that you,” the ones who’re going to end up to our armpits he ran a finger round the perfect outline of in shite, if I know him. He’s really got us this Bodie’s lips, “look like you’ve just had a lovely time.” time and I look like I’ve just been shoved up “That a fact?” Doyle muttered, unconcernedly against a wall and fucked legless.” sitting down in the middle of the corridor to don “Pity I didn’t fuck you footless, that would’ve his abandoned footwear. “You really think he’s solved the problem, wouldn’t it?” got us where he wants us, cos we, members of There was a very discreet tap at the door, fol- the security forces that we are, had sex in a lowed by an even more discreet cough. Foot- public place?” steps—from someone who was wearing two “Oh, and you think he hasn’t? Listen, Ray, shoes—faded down the corridor, disappearing last time he got me like this, he got me into CI5. into the geriatric lift. With raised eyebrow and a He’s already got me body and soul, what the glance of shared suspicion with Doyle, Bodie fuck does that leave for this time?” opened the door with suitable caution. Nice as A grin of wicked delight, and a micro-cassette ninepence and considerably more expensive, lay tossed in the air. “Leaves us this, doesn’t it? A Doyle’s shoe, black sock tucked tidily inside. bit of judicial editing of our illustrious leader’s Bodie looked at the shoe, gloomily, then at Doyle, confab with old Fairy Godmother Jenkinson gloomily. shall make all our dreams come true—and “He’s got us by the short and curlies, you do Cowley’ll be offering us holidays for a year, won’t know that, don’t you?” he?” “Who has?” “With pay, you little genius,” Bodie scrooged, “As if you don’t know! Cowley, of course. The rubbing his hands in glee. “And overtime. With old bugger’s up to something, Ray, and we’re expenses…”

£3£3£3 108 £3£3£3

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 GUINEA TO A GOOSEBERRY Guinea to a gooseberry is a reference to long odds. Here it refers to the chance for a happy ending after the stormy finish to “A Summer’s Outing.” Yes, yes, the Glaswegian swears up and down that she hates to do sequels and happily—ever— afters; you’d be a fool to believe everything she says. Devices and Desires picks up the story about ten years later. This places it in the late ’80s—a very different world from the decade before, as you shall see… DEVICES AND DESIRES M. FAE GLASGOW

FOR HIS OWN GOOD—WHO WERE THEY TRYING TO KID? floor. Or if disturbed by the banging and the For his own good—fat bloody chance. If this was thumping, that old bat who lived downstairs supposed to help lower his blood pressure, then hadn’t gathered her ire to her large bosom and it looked like it was going to be a complete waste come upstairs to moan at him about the noise of time—not to mention money. He was leaning he was making, only to find his door open and on the railing, watching with abstract anger as him lying in an ever-widening puddle of rich, the dockers unleashed the ship, setting it free heart-red blood. If only… to sail upon the blue sea. It was a glorious day, But rubbish like that wouldn’t get him any- £3£3£3 hot sun blessing him after the dankness of an where, would it? He prowled along the deck, 109 English spring, cloudless sky of deepest blue, neatly sidestepping white-jacketed stewards, £3£3£3 pretty hillside villages of the picture-postcard scowling at their professional smiles, keeping a variety, but instead of easing his tension, all of predatory eye on a nicely turned buttock or well- it was just adding to his simmering fury. filled crotch. It was the one good thing about He didn’t want to be here—he really didn’t this holiday, he supposed, grudgingly conced- want to be here. It was absurd, typical bloody ing even a modicum of benefit to this farce. Good bureaucratic crap to order him off on holiday— looking men everywhere he looked, and if they after all, if Cowley, at his age and with his duff weren’t available, they were at least just as bent leg could keep up with the work load, then it as he was. Rounding a corner, he stopped, prop- was downright stupid to send a man half his ping himself against the railings, staring at the age and the picture of health off on some use- cornucopia of flesh displayed in front of him. less holiday. His body had more sense than his The pool—another stupid idea, he thought, con- head, though, choosing that moment to send a sidering they were in a bloody boat floating on a twinge of pain across his chest, an unnerving bloody sea—was already beginning to fill with reminder that all was not well, regardless of his gambolling men too anxious to start their holi- protestations of the opposite. Absently, he day to even wait until they had cleared the rubbed at his chest, unable to ignore the pain harbour proper. Scraps of red and black and or to forget the day it had happened. Funny—it white dived and surfaced, precariously wrapped was the one time his strenuous excising of Bodie around lean hips, genitals perfectly delineated, failed him. He invariably had that moment of there for anyone who chose to window shop doubt, of wondering if it would have been dif- before deciding what to take home. Laughter was ferent if he and Bodie had still been partners, if rising, a little self-conscious, the over-loud en- Bodie had been there to watch his back. Death thusiasm of the newly released. The whole thing had almost got him that time: another half inch reminded him of the seconds after the bell rang and he would’ve been dead before he hit the to signal the end of term and roiling hordes of

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 youth would cheer the onset of freedom for a gift shop, in the public toilets and that the stew- whole summer. The difference this time, of ards would be happy to bring some to one’s cabin course, that the freedom here, the release here at any time of day or night. He shoved the stark was from the strictures of societies that barely rectangle of laminated cardboard into the near- tolerated their sort, frowning on them if they est drawer: he was here to escape ugly realities, did anything so uncouth as to display affection not to be reminded of them. And as if he needed for each other in public. But here, on this par- reminding: he’d heard the reports, seen the sta- ticular ship, with this particular shipping line, tistics. But even as he packed his clothes into there were no such constrictions. the shallow dresser-drawers, he forced himself An exceedingly Adonis-like steward gave him to not ignore it, to stop shoving it to the back of the eye and Doyle wondered if everyone on this his mind. He had never thought the day would bloody boat was gay. And if they were? He took come when he’d be glad of the discretion the his white jacket off, rolling his shirt sleeves up, job had forced on him, but it had kept him off tugging his silver bracelet back into place over the gay circuit, making him stick to people he a wrist that was, like the rest of him, too pale. knew very well, men who were just as careful Face turned to the sun, he considered what it as he was, thanks to positions in the Ministry would mean if everyone on this ship were gay. or the Department, or whatever other ‘sensitive’ No coming across someone who disapproved. situation they were shackled to. Plus, as the man No-one asking if he were married yet. No-one who was grooming himself to one day take over wondering why he was still a bachelor. No-one from Cowley himself, he had to be very careful. to pat his hand and assure him that not to worry, Oh, they all knew he was gay, had done ever he’d meet the right girl one day. In other words, since that débâcle too many summers ago, but no explanations to be given, no excuses to be it was political—and promotion—suicide to rub made. For once, every single person he met any noses in it. So no living with someone less

£3£3£3 would assume the truth and not bat an eyelid than perfectly presentable, no public displays 110 over it. And there would be no minor skirmishes of affection, no effete young men hanging on £3£3£3 engendered by him proving to straight people his arm, no whooping it up at nightclubs or that he was just as much a man as they, or just baths. All that loneliness had paid off, with slow as good as they, or just as undeserving of dis- but steady promotion, until the only thing keep- crimination. ing him from heading CI5 was Cowley’s contin- There was, he conceded, a slim chance that ued existence—and that certainly wasn’t some- this holiday might actually be good for him af- thing he wanted to change, not by a long chalk. ter all, especially after the exceedingly vicious Old bastard he undoubtedly was, but Cowley battle with the new Minister. He felt the nip of had become the truest friend he’d ever had in the sun on his nose and recognised that if he his life. One other person excepted… weren’t careful, he’d end up doing nothing more He took his clothes off, standing naked in on this holiday than lying in his cabin covered the heat drifting in through his open port-hole, with camomile lotion. So down to his cabin then, slowly covering his winter skin in lotion, paying off with his light-weight suit, on with the sun- considerable attention to the job, paying more tan lotion and then back up on deck. attention to the changes in his body. The scars His suitcases were already stacked neatly in on his chest from the shooting were effectively his cabin, with a list of ship rules laid on top. covered by his body hair, the pattern perma- He scanned them quickly, noting all the usual nently disturbed now, always looking as if some- information, quick mind automatically one had just run his fingers through it. It had memorising the emergency procedures. One taken months after the last of the operations item brought the frown back to his face, a quick for him to get used to the new lie of his hair, flash of anger at the last thing on the list, at the before that funny feeling of hair not quite sit- end of ‘General Comments to Further your ting right had left. It still came back, even now, Cruise Experience’: a reminder that condoms making him itch and thoughtlessly smooth his were placed ‘for your safety and convenience’ in hair in a direction it could no longer grow. There the bathroom and that more were on sale in the was grey in his chest hair now, the premature

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 grey that so often accompanies red or auburn, present, the past and the future bedamned by but he always thought that with him, it had the prospect of pleasure and he was on his way rather more to do with the pressures and ad- to the top deck, where his speedos would gar- ventures of life itself. He’d never be fat, he ner approval, albeit far less than the goodies preened, stretching, but his muscles had they so scantly concealed. On his own in the massed with the passing of the years, most of lift, almost at his stop, he adjusted himself with the fawn-like litheness disappearing beneath a studied intention, lifting his cock so that the layer of slender strength. Facing himself in the long length of it was displayed as a separate mirror, he looked at all the lines and wrinkles enticement from the heavy roundness that that could tell his life story to anyone who cared showed where his balls were cradled safely by to take the time to read them. He, obviously, bright red lycra. His fingers found the small knew every tale and thought with an uncom- mesh pouch inside the briefs, one which he had mon pang of self-pity how clearly they showed always used before for keys he was unwilling to the smallness of happiness he’d had. Oh, there leave behind, but he realised, as the door opened were laughter lines aplenty, but there was also on a banquet of attractive men, that it could the furrowing of his brow, the deeply delineated have been designed as a place to stash a con- frown marks standing like soldiers between his dom or two. And judging by the looks he was eyebrows, the faint droop of his mouth. But most harvesting, it might be a hell of a good idea to of all, there was that hollowness of his eyes he make sure he carried some. He grinned to him- always found so depressing, for it reflected what self, just imagining himself asking for a ‘gin and was left when you subtracted his job. tonic—oh, and a couple of condoms, please. Pre- For a while, he thought that he and Mark lubed and ribbed, if you have them’. Christ, this might last, but not even Mark had finally been was a gay cruise run by a gay cruise line aimed able to understand the hours and the secrecy exclusively at the gay market; they could prob- and the constant, all-seeing security. But Mark ably supply the damned things in your colour £3£3£3 was part of the past now, over—he looked at of choice. There was an extremely handsome 111 himself in sudden shock—a year ago in the past. man, very tall, very dark, propping up the £3£3£3 That year had slithered by without him even pseudo-Caribbean bar and Doyle flaunted him- marking upon its passing, another year with self, making his interest as apparent as the bulge nothing but the job and pleasant friendships in the other man’s swimming trunks. He that were never quite enough, nor ever quite doubted he was going to do anything quite so right. And if nothing was ever quite right, com- precipitous, quite so unwise, as to fuck the bloke pared to Bodie, where did that leave him then? five minutes after meeting him, but this free- For look, he said to his reflection, where that dom to flirt was intoxicating. He glanced around, relationship ended up. marvelling on at the fact that every single man Resolute, he turned his back on his own face, he could see was gay, that there was no need not choosing to see the answer to his question, on this ship for the ultra-discreet, semi-secret refusing to think about Bodie. That was the code that was used in the world he inhabited. worst thing about the prospect of having 10 There was no reason here to check out the name whole days of nothing but free time on his hands: of a favourite pub, to establish if there was even he knew he’d end up spending an inordinate the minimal knowledge of the gay world, and amount of time thinking about relationships therefore the possibility of what was euphemis- gone awry, and a love that had been drowned at tically termed ‘mutual interests’. birth like an unwanted kitten. Casting around for a free lounger, he stopped But the first day of a cruise—no matter how for a moment, shocked into rudeness to stare resented—was not the time to spend regurgi- at the couple. They were lying side by side in tating the past. There were attractive men up matching briefs, reclining on matching towels there, and this was a closed environment from on matching loungers, their unity worn like a whence no tales could be carried to Whitehall banner. But what had made him stare was the to ruin all the work he and Cowley had put into sight of one of them leaning over to kiss, linger- his career. Whistling, focussed entirely on the ingly and very passionately, his friend, his hand

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 slipping down to press lovingly over the swell of minders. But the day was beautiful, and the crotch. In public—and he just come from the young man peering down at him with that smile arrested stuffiness of Whitehall, where not even was also beautiful, so he set his mind to enjoy- married couples did more than peck each other ment, trying to truly discard his work and the on the cheek. Small wonder he stared, unable politics that made it both challenge and sewer. to believe his eyes, his body reacting helplessly. “Gin and tonic, please.” With that throb of interest, his paralysis passed Booze, at ten o’clock in the morning. He had and he moved on, glancing around in furtive an urge to sit here all alone and laugh, proving embarrassment that someone might have seen the old saying about mad dogs and Englishmen his gaucherie. Some had, but the reactions were having rather a lot in common. Suppressed, the more those of sympathetic comprehension, humour showed up as nothing more than a apart, of course, from those who were hawk- smile of singular satisfaction, reflecting his like, staring at a possible chicken. A direct glower mood. He felt all of a sudden, as if all the the and that idea was dispelled: he might be a wee strings and ties and chains had been severed. bit rusty when it came to the etiquette of public G&T at ten in the morning—he really, honestly and enthusiastic homosexuality, but he was no and truly was on holiday. Even if it was an en- virgin nor anyone’s bottom. forced medical leave, he was still on holiday, on There was a clump of empty lounges over by a glorious cruise that he wasn’t even paying for. one of the gangways, so he headed there, claim- A shadow didn’t bring any coolness, but the ing one and then standing beside it to scan for chinkle of ice in a glass did. “Your drink, sir. My a steward. He might not be ready to order his name is Philip, sir, so please don’t hesitate to condoms, but he could use a drink right now. call me if you need anything, anything at all. The only word to describe the young man re- And remember, sir, this is an all-found cruise, sponding to his beckoning finger was pretty. so everything is on the house. Everything, sir.”

£3£3£3 Doyle found himself smiling in response to the A blind, dumb and deaf cabbage would have 112 sweet smile and the approving assessment of got that message, loud and clear. Doyle smiled £3£3£3 his body. Even if it were for the sake of a gener- at him, kindly, but making it clear that he would ous tip signed at the foot of the bill, it was still flirt but no farther. “Everything? Then you’ll be pleasant to be so openly desired. Someone else too busy to get up to much trouble on a ship in the interim, however, apparently was dying this size, won’t you? Thanks, Philip. I’ll make of the thirst, too, and the steward paused, low- sure you’re the one I call when next I need a ering himself with a grace that drew a pang of drink.” response from Doyle: he had been that limber He almost regretted turning him down, and graceful, once. Oh, he was hardly a lum- watching that tight little bum twitch away bering elephant now, but there were one or two amongst the loungers and tables, but if Philip things creeping into his workout now that he were so willing with him, then god knew how couldn’t do as well as he once had. There were many other men he’d been willing with. And in things that were taking a few seconds longer for this day and age, he sighed, you had to be so him to do, the inexorable push of time nudging bloody careful. him towards the grave. Eyes closed to keep out the sun and those Such morbidity, he reminded himself, was interested in getting to know him better, he exactly the kind of thing he was on this stupid whiled away the time, doing nothing more than bloody cruise to escape. He lay down on the drifting with the sound of the sea and the rise lounger, sighing in relief as the sun warmed him and fall of laughter. He started, realising then like the hand of a lover, tingling immediately that he must have fallen asleep, ambushed by into his muscles, beginning to work magic on overwork to which he would not own and by the joints he hadn’t even noticed were stiffening. long flight out from London to meet the ship. Age, he supposed, frowning again, that and all Sitting up slowly, rather welcome knowledge those years on the street, getting pounded, run- dawned on him: he wasn’t stiff. He sprang up ning and jumping and fighting on concrete. All now, bending down to finish the disgustingly that damage: he was lucky he had so few re- weak, warm but at least still wet drink, then he

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 stopped. There was something… A reawakening had been more of a bastard to his ex-partner. of instincts and training he no longer needed There were lines on Bodie’s face, and he took on a daily basis, but the prickling awareness the time to read them, as he had taken the time was there, full force, without warning. Without to look at his own, earlier. He didn’t like what him thinking about it, his hand had reached he saw. Too much pain had lived on this face, for the gun that wasn’t there, and that was when with too little laughter and too much anger. he realised that it wasn’t the situation, it was Subtle changes, too, adding to the distortion the personality. A split second, all this, and he caused by the wrinkling of skin that had once was straightening, turning at the same time as struck him as the most beautiful skin he had the name burst into his mind— ever seen. Jowls were beginning, minutely, —and he turned, full tilt into him. “Bodie!” faintly, but for the first time, one could see how Hands smaller than he remembered grappled Bodie would look as an old man. All the sign- him to steadiness, his near-nudity plastered to posts were there, as they were in his own face, Bodie’s well-clad body. After that single word, but so much more clearly. The body was still they neither of them seemed to know what to trim, but stolid now, settled down into the stub- say, Bodie holding him dumbly, staring at him, born build of a rugby player, all solidity and and he himself staring back, almost falling power. The skin was still as white, still as prone headfirst under the spell of the past. to sunburn, which was probably why Bodie was But the cold voice of old betrayal disguised the only man on board this ship who wasn’t as ever-so reasonable rationality reminded him, exposing at least his legs to the sun. the past was the past, dead and buried, over Like a refrain from a half-forgotten song, a and done, long gone, kicked the bucket… memory filtered into his mind: Bodie, that time So why was he still standing there, to all in- they’d gone out to the country and travelled up tents and purposes in Bodie’s arms, staring at the canal on a barge. He had ended up as brown him as if this were an old Trevor Howard film? as the proverbial berry, but poor Bodie had £3£3£3 Because, his honesty whispered at him, because ended up like a raspberry, almost purple with 113 it hasn’t changed for you. You still fancy him. sunburn and wincing in agony every time he £3£3£3 And he’s still the one everyone else gets com- moved. That had been, the sadness of it am- pared to and comes up wanting. bushed him with unexpected intensity, only the In the end, it was Bodie letting go of him that weekend before they’d been outed, although they freed them both from the grip of memory. Odd, hadn’t had that word back then. The weekend really, that he felt so cold: he had thought that before, when it had seemed that time had only was something that only happened in films and happiness to promise and that the biggest threat fiction. But it wasn’t and the sun wasn’t hot to their eventual romance was a stray bullet. enough to convert this autumnal blast. It was “You’re looking well,” Bodie was saying to him, the expression on Bodie’s face that chilled him, fingers tugging suddenly, sweetly at one of his that combination of fear and desire and pustu- curls as if the temptation was too great to be lating agony. resisted, “even if you have gone a bit grey. All “Fancy meeting you here,” Bodie finally said, brass and silver now, aren’t you?” the kind of cliché one clings to, only to die of He couldn’t lie: Bodie did not look well. In embarrassment later, when the phrase is re- fact, he remembered this look of old: exhaus- membered. tion, emotionally drained, more than half de- “Nothing odd about me being here, is there, feated. “You look like you’ve been having an in- Bodie? I’m the one who’s supposed to be queer.” teresting time of it,” was what he said, wonder- Not only was he sinking in the quicksand of ing if the old communication was still there be- undead emotions, he was slipping back into the tween them after its long hibernation or if it had kind of language he hadn’t used since the ’70 starved in the fallow winter. s—since his time with Bodie. And how very “If you were Chinese, I’d say you were spot much water had flowed under the bridge since on.” then. Time had been less kind to Bodie than it “You’ve been all right, though?” had been to him, or perhaps it was just that life “Couldn’t’ve been better.”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 And the aching bitterness in that made him to the fact that it was lying all wrong, as if the regret all the times Cowley had tried to talk to scars were bothering it, reminded of the time him about Bodie but he’d refused to listen, too before by the sound of Bodie’s voice. Then he afraid that he would end up lost again. It had actually thought about the question and his face hurt beyond bearing at the beginning, when darkened with the worry he had no-one to tell Cowley had offered him reports and by the time about. “Cowley? Old, and still a proper bastard.” the pain had receded to levels he could grit his Bodie looked at him with quick, bright eyes, teeth and bear it, the habit of mentioning Bodie the once-dead rapport slowly reborning. “And? had been broken, the name become taboo, the What’s the matter with him?” information lost. In the meantime, what was And it was as easy as sitting with him at the there to say to such a bald display of disaster? Black Boar, discussing the latest gossip, pass- Nothing that was neither banal nor useless. So ing on juicy titbits, worrying a problem like a he settled for the trivial and the cautiously bone. “His heart. It’s been dicky for years, but friendly. “The lunch bell just went. You com- it’s getting worse now. Angina, tiredness, all that ing?” sort of thing. But you know the Old Man, he’ll Even as he said it, he could have kicked him- outlive the lot of us. Only…” self, but Bodie let it pass, giving no reaction at “Only what?” all. “Yeah,” was all he said, leading the way to He ate the last of his meal first, neatly bal- the dining room. “All this sea air makes me starv- ancing flaky fish and nubby wild rice on the ing.” back of his fork with all the finesse he’d learned They kept it up, the impersonal chatter of over the years of working with Cowley and fac- strangers coming across each other on a boat, ing down those born with silver and gold spoons as if it were no more than two Englishmen of in their mouths. “Only,” he finally answered, not similar ages and backgrounds bumping into a looking up, “only George doesn’t seem to agree

£3£3£3 kindred soul amidst the racket and intrusive with us. These past six months—Christ, 114 friendliness of foreigners. But it was less than anyone’d think he had a direct line Upstairs and £3£3£3 that, listened to less than even the usual expa- God’d told him when he was expected.” triates’ conversation, and it was far more than There was a visible reaction to the use of that, too. They were watching each other con- Cowley’s first name, a blush of pain, but it was stantly, with a kind of morbid subterfuge, try- gone before Doyle looked up. “Could be he’s just ing to find signs that the other had been missed, making sure everything’s all in order, you know that life had been less worth living in the ab- Cowley.” This time, Doyle did see the minute sence of the other. tightening around the eye, the faint compres- “So what’ve you been up to?” Bodie asked, sion of lips as the name was said. There was a the first to yield. wash of guilt over him, slow and deceptively mild “The same old mob. I’m Cowley’s second now before the undertow threatened his balance. and when the Old Man retires, it’ll be my hands He’d basically managed to never think about on the reins.” Said so blandly, with such ap- how Bodie’d felt, losing CI5 and Cowley, only parent unawareness that his news could sting, going as far as comforting himself with the Doyle didn’t even hear the echo of Cowley’s voice knowledge that if Bodie had really wanted it, he in his own. would have stayed and fought. Beside him, at “That’s nice,” Bodie agreed, sounding like a his back, where they belonged, together… man offered three root canals without He strangled that snakelike hope, telling him- anæsthetics. “How is the old bastard, anyway?” self that they had bumped into each other—lit- Doyle toyed with his food, feeling like one of erally—and that was that. There were too many the clocks in a Dali painting, melting into years between them, and Bodie’s marriage to surreality. He’d stopped allowing himself to consider. Regardless of the fact that Bodie was think about this moment, this re-meeting Bodie, on a gay cruise, there was the fact of his mar- but the cream-tea politeness was so bizarre, it riage. The one and only fact he’d ever asked was making his bones itch. And the hair on his Cowley for, the one and only fact that had cut chest was bothering him, as if it had woken up him dead cold and buried any chances he

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 thought he and Bodie might have had. “No,” he him until the bastard was dead. Face impas- said, bursting into speech, words tumbling sive, he began swimming, back and forth, back quickly from him, trying to cover up the sud- and forth, a serious, intense discipline that had denly long silence when he’d been lost in no place in this pool of dolphinesque Davids. thought, “no, this time’s different. It’s as if Every lift of his arm, every kick of his feet, was George’s making his peace, tying up all the loose like a blow thudding into Bodie, satisfying, heavy ends, the whole bit. I mean, look at what he did blows. He kept on going, trying to exorcise a just last month. D’you know, he looked up an demon by exercise, trying to face something he old army mate of his—from Korea—to pay him hadn’t known about himself. back money he’d borrowed way back when? Now He hated Bodie for leaving him like that. that’s obsessive. No, it’s not just his usual—” Hated him with a passion. And loved him with the Scots accent had improved with age and a passion, still. Christ, he thought to himself, much exposure to the real thing “—’a place for what a state to be in. So much for reducing everything, and everything in its place’. I don’t stress and lowering my fucking blood pressure. know, blame it on the old copper’s nose. George He had never, ever been so angry in his life as doesn’t seem to think it’ll be long before he pops he had been when Bodie had said that about his clogs.” George. An odd combination of insider talking “It’s hard to imagine George Cowley being about the head of his department and an out- dead. He’s like the Queen Mum, been there for- sider sticking him up on the pedestal of public ever.” admiration. And to say it in that tone of voice, Doyle looked at him again, watching the faint as if nothing had ever happened, as if he’d never clouds of emotion scud over Bodie’s face in run out on him, leaving him to carry the can all muted contrast to the blandness of his words. by himself, clawing and fighting and struggling He didn’t know what to say: sorry for doing to prove that even poofs could be reliable, could something I’d do again, sorry you ran away like be good operatives. Of course, he thought to £3£3£3 a coward instead of facing yourself? “I don’t think himself with an ulcerating bitterness, getting 115 I’m going to bother with dessert, I’ll have a swim married almost straight away played right into £3£3£3 instead. See you later.” our hands. Look, we said, he wasn’t really queer And he was gone, out of there, where he after all. Just playing at it, just playing at it… couldn’t see Bodie any more, plunged into the The burn of tears took him completely by almost-silence offered by the pool water, swim- surprise, for he’d never shed a single one over ming deep, under the surface, all the colours Bodie, not even when he’d been told about the cut sharply by painter’s knife, all the other bod- embarrassingly hasty marriage. The swimming ies twisted and distorted by the folding and pool was proving useful, chlorine the perfect pleating of the water. He touched bottom, hold- cover for eyes that were uncommonly red and ing out for as long as he could before going back bloodshot. He had lost the rhythm of his swim, up and facing the world again. Actually, the some of the vengeful anger subsided, replaced world was a breeze: it was himself he didn’t want by this stomach-leadening misery. He pulled to face. Under the water, he was buffered by the himself out of the pool, grabbing one of the spec- liquid satin, able to give himself over to the con- tacularly garish towels provided by the ship and centration of the physical: keeping himself on dropped onto one of the loungers. Forearm over the bottom, how much air he had left, how his his eyes, he lay there like the dead, missing only lungs were feeling, the way the water felt swim- the coins to cover his eyes. His bracelet was dig- ming through the hair on his head and chest ging into his forehead, but he ignored it, not and legs. His time was up. Left to the last sec- needing to be reminded about Mark, not right ond, his resurfacing was spectacular, his body now. Not when he had Bodie to cope with. Not shooting up to let him gulp in air. With the sting when he was being pierced by the emotions that of air, with the heat of the eyes staring at him, he had stuffed under the metaphoric carpet a came the anger. He was livid, unexpectedly so, decade ago. Something, the old sixth sense, the almost unable to control the urge to take Bodie one that had warned him that Bodie was nearby by the neck and shake and strangle and curse prickled behind his eyes to join the tears. With

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 due caution, blinking rapidly, as if his eyes were him to face the wolves alone while Bodie went a touch watery from chlorine and too much sun, off and joined in with the rest of Society, oh, he glanced around with patented casualness. he’d be hard put to let that lie. And there he was, standing in the shadow of Even if Bodie had looked at him that way, the coiled, open-work staircase that led to the hiding beneath the stairs, as if he had no right upper deck. All in white, which struck Ray for now to so much as look. the first time, for Bodie had never been one for Always quick to tan, Doyle was turning the dressing like that. White shirt, very modern, colour of sultanas already. Physically, he was white trousers, very well cut. Not expensive, not aware the benefits of rest already beginning, really, but not cheap or common looking either. but his mind was a rollercoaster tied in knots. Even the shoes were white, on a man who, when One thing led to another, hurtling on at break- last he’d known him, despised white shoes for neck speed, only to come to a clattering halt at anything other than exercise or cricket. But Bodie walking out on him, or on Bodie walking these were soft leather shoes, the kind he’d nor- back in on him, with that secret look, hidden mally expect to see on a dancer. Or a gay man. under the stairs. It was time to get dressed, he He’d come back to that. The question he hadn’t decided, closing the rollercoaster down for the asked over lunch, preferring instead such com- night, go in to dinner, meet some nice guy, flirt ments as the weather and how much hotter it a little, play a little, perhaps even find out if was here than back home… Casual conversa- the stewards really are happy to deliver a con- tion or not, he had gleaned that Bodie had been dom to your cabin, any time, day or night. abroad, only returning to England in the past Bodie’s disappearance had soured much of his year or so, that he’d had hard times, but was life, but he’d be damned if he’d let this reap- hoping that things were getting better, had come pearance spoil his holiday. Spryer than most into some money recently from a relative he men half his age, he got to his feet, turned

£3£3£3 hadn’t even known. quickly—and caught a flicker of movement out 116 And was standing there in the shadows, the of the corner of his eye. Someone, moving, £3£3£3 poor boy from the village staring through the stealthy speed dissolving into the shadows of drawing room window at the Earl’s daughter, the ship. But if he could recognise him with eyes so full of hopeless longing it cut Doyle to his back turned, then he could recognise him the quick. But his anger was there, at the core by a brief glimpse. Bodie. Stood there, watch- of him, festered away to the bone, and it met ing, all afternoon? The implications shivered the look with harshness, with a gaze that said, down his spine and took up residence in his ‘you should’ve thought of that before you ran boots, along with his heart. Bodie was back. away and left me’. He closed his eyes again, cov- Christ, not just bumping into him on a boat ering them with his arm, pulling the towel up and letting it go at that. No, watching him like over that, a multi-layered barrier with huge great that, Bodie must want him. ‘keep out’ signs bristling from it. The only prob- And what the hell was he going to do about lem was that he hadn’t been quick enough. He’d that? taken a quisling into his little den: the expres- There was the marriage to consider, and al- sion in Bodie’s eyes upon seeing the hostility in though he knew many a gay man married for Doyle’s. camouflage and familial duties, he made it his It occurred to Doyle then, that perhaps he policy never to get involved with them, unable might have a hard time forgiving himself for what as he was to put up with the lying and subter- he was doing to Bodie. But then, his anger fuge and shame. He’d gone through far too much shouted at him, bursting the staves that had to ever skulk around in shame-filled secrecy held it in for these many years, won’t you have again. But then, what if he’d been right after a harder time forgiving Bodie? It was probably all, a decade ago? What if Bodie really were gay, the marriage that rankled most, second to the but simply too scared and too repressed to ad- leaving itself. He’d always hated cowardice and mit it? What if it had been a knee-jerk reac- always admired Bodie for his courage, so to have tion—run away and get married, that’ll prove the one betrayed by the other and to abandon that you’re not one of them.

We’re getting old, he thought incredulously. He went back to his contemplation of Bodie’s £3£3£3 My god, we’re getting old! It had always seemed profile. It was subtly altered, and not merely by 117 to him that life had stopped, to a degree, when time. There was something about the set of the £3£3£3 Bodie had left. That part of their life, being part- mouth that was different, the slope of the nose… ners, the sweet anticipation of becoming more, Yes, there, the tiniest change, a mark that had always seemed to Doyle to simply exist, as showed the nose had been broken at some point if it were trapped in one of those glass, brass- in the last decade, up near the bridge, where topped Victorian viewing bottles Cowley had the frown lines spilled over from the forehead. collected. To see that those times had passed, He couldn’t see the eyes, but there were differ- erased by lines of experience on faces and the ences there, too, almost as if they were more heaviness of jowl, that shook him. deeply set than before. Well, that usually hap- Of a sudden, taking a stranger to bed didn’t pens when you get older, bags start, eyelids sag seem quite so appealing. Apart from the emo- and, thinking of his own face, you get to the tional burdens he was suddenly shouldering, point where people start saying your face has was the discomfiting recognition not of his own ‘character’. He hoped he didn’t end up with as mortality—he had accepted that years ago—but much ‘character’ as Cowley… for the first time, of the inevitability of it. And Bodie was leaning forward, listening with the creeping knowledge that before he died, he’d every evidence of intense interest to the man have to grow old first. Like Cowley, struggling seated on his right and Doyle could see enough every day against the hardships of increasing to recognise that expression: Bodie was bored age, refusing to concede, refusing to yield—but out of his skull and about to start in with the getting his affairs in order. Perhaps, he thought, pithy comments and sarcastic remarks. God, it’s not that George thinks that Death is going but that brought back some good memories! He to get him. Maybe it’s that he knows that old could just picture old man Jackson, that day age will. they’d been stuck bringing the ancient and He grabbed his brandy balloon, downing the cranky boffin in to CI5. Some of the comments heat in a oner, needing that sudden explosion that day had been really ripe, but no one could

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 top Bodie when it came to saying the filthiest of shots of the children. He didn’t suppose the things without actually putting a foot out of breakfast table had been quite the place to tell place. Reprimand him for his comments and he the wife that you were going on a gay cruise, would pin seraphic innocence on his face and either. Two separate lives, the way he always leave his accuser feeling like they had a sewer had. The bastard hadn’t changed, not one bit, of a mind, taking such harmless remarks as not where it mattered. such terrible double entendres. He wondered But then again, Doyle thought, fingertip trac- what the poor blond was going to get pinned ing the silvered edge of brandy glass, listening with. He found himself sinking back into the as carefully to the sound as if it were his own old habit without so much as a nod to the inner voice speaking to him, it wasn’t exactly present, relaxing into his seat, waiting for Bodie fair of him to jump to conclusions, was it? Maybe to go into his usual routine. In the meantime, Bodie was just another one of those blokes who he would simply enjoy the pleasant view, watch- swept half their lives under the carpet and then ing the way he used to. trod on the lumps when they became too em- He could have Bodie, if he wanted to. The barrassingly visual. But maybe he wasn’t. So a thought came, full-fledged and unbidden, echo- gay cruise wasn’t the best place to discuss fam- ing an afternoon long gone, razor edged with ily, but what if the family wasn’t there any more? dreams longs since dead and ashen. He could. The only actual fact you have, laddie, he said to He could have him, right here and now. After himself in friendly mockery of his boss, is that all, if Bodie were on this cruise, if he’d booked Bodie married shortly after you and I forced him himself on board, then he had to be available. into a corner and elbowed him out of CI5. Which ‘Ready, willing and able, that’s me’, was Bodie’s was nothing less than the truth, albeit spoken once frequent boast. Thumb rubbing his lower only once, the day before he’d left on this cruise. lip, Doyle considered that. Ready, willing and His eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion and the

£3£3£3 able. Then the bitterness brought him back to man opposite him started casting around for 118 the present, to the man he was now, to the man an alibi for whatever it was he was supposed to £3£3£3 Bodie had become: willing, all right, but just have done. Belatedly noticing the fair-haired don’t tell the wife. He could see it quite clearly man’s squirming discomfiture, Doyle gave him in his mind’s eye: the wife, very pretty, very his most reassuring, civil CI5 smile. Which prob- blonde, a very good cook—Bodie would insist ably explained why the man harriedly recalled on that—a couple of kids, nice car. The motor- that he had something terribly urgent to do. bike rallies were probably a thing of the past, The empty space he left behind left a tunnel although he probably still played cricket with of vision that ended at Bodie’s solid form. He his old mob. He’d take the wife and kiddies with was in the well-known fawns he had worn so him, the blonde wife drinking white wine while often, but these clothes were elegantly casual, the kids consumed orange squash, all of them a far more mature style than anything Doyle preening because they were with big, handsome had ever seen him in. He was even, shock of Bodie who could charm Brigadiers and babies shocks, wearing sandals, feet bared to the world. with equal ease. Oh, yeh, he could just see the And it was hard, Doyle confessed, to remember nice little house, three up, two down, well-kept why he was angry, with Bodie sitting there, lost garden, toys put away before Daddy came home in a world of thought, his mouth so sad and his at night, everyone waiting at the front door when back bowed. It seemed so unlike him, so much they heard the car drive up—he pulled himself an attitude of defeat, where before there had up short, surprised by his own bitterness, not never been anything less than bravado radiat- to mention fancifulness. Apart from anything ing from him. Then the more familiar body lan- else, he reminded himself, Bodie’d only been guage returned, Bodie straightening up, spine back in England for about a year, and no men- and upper lip stiffening, the perfect picture of tion had been made of the family. But then, he the stoic Englishman. Apart, Doyle noted, apart didn’t suppose sitting having lunch with an ex- from the sadness around his mouth. It would almost-lover on a gay cruise surrounded by gay be so easy, he knew, to go over there, invite Bodie men was quite the place to pull out holiday snap- to share a drink, sit together, reminisce, slide

He used to dream what it would be like to start hand, a ribbon-wrapped condom flashing, “— £3£3£3 at the long toes and work his way up, licking accoutrements. I used to be a Boy Scout, you 119 every inch until he got to the cock, which would see. Always,” he cocked his hips forward, show- £3£3£3 be beginning to rise, filling with the heat of ing off just how prepared he was, “ready.” Bodie’s arousal, and then he could take him in “So I see. And very nicely ready at that. But…” his mouth and— “But nothing. Come on, there are lots and —and if he didn’t get out of here now, as in lots of things we can do that are safe enough. right now, he was going to embarrass himself. We could…” Not to mention fall, panting, at Bodie’s feet. But Doyle was gone, chasing after a shadow Thanking heaven and WilliWear for baggy trou- he had seen, a wraith slipping off into anony- sers, he slipped from the room, not missing mous darkness. There was no reasoning behind Bodie’s quick start of reaction. his actions, just the gut-level instinct that had Across the plastic bamboo that bedecked the always made him watch Bodie’s back, right from outside bar, a lush young thing had draped him- the first day. It wasn’t something that had self, the pose so provocative as to be almost grown, nor something that they had built up absurd, were it not for the immediate response layer by measured layer, it had simply been it evoked in Doyle’s cock. there, as natural as Bodie’s instinct to guard “Hi, honey,” the young man, or not quite so him had been. And he knew on a level he had young man, given closer inspection, called out rarely tapped in the years of Bodie’s absence, to Doyle, cocking his hips and displaying his that there was something wrong. cock a little more. “It’s the first night of the The first corridor was devoid of life, the sec- cruise, what say you we don’t waste a single ond holding only a couple secluded in a door second?” recess, mouths busy on each other. The Cabaña Temptation incarnate—were it not for the Bar was crowded, but Bodie wasn’t part of the man sitting in the dining room all evening. Were gyrating mass, nor was he one of the moon- it not for the man who had spent the better part glowed bodies knifing into the pool. The amuse- of the day doing nothing more with his life than ment deck was equally useless, the gym deserted

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 by all but the most obsessed body builders. By would help to pray, that really is what I want. now, he had slowed his search, walking calmly Forever and ever, Amen, even after what hap- around the ship, checking all the public places, pened before. All because he’s shown up on a gradually accepting that Bodie had gone to gay cruise. And it’s not as if he ever denied ground. And when Bodie did that, there was fucking blokes, it was the reasons behind it that nothing to do but wait until he showed himself got to me. Get involved with a bloke like that again. and you’re in as much trouble as a battered wife. There was so much to do on the ship, every- He’d seen it before—in Bodie, for one—the thing from classic films being shown in the cin- inability to admit to being gay. Alongside it, ema to public, if cautious, sex on the aft deck. graceless as an unfed cur, came dissatisfaction He backtracked his own perambulations of the and loss of self-respect, snarling and curling evening, looking at everything going on, mind round and round till any semblance of a happy too distracted to become involved in any of it. relationship was purely accidental. When he’d He had ignored Bodie for almost ten full years: met him, Mark Ferguson was still unyoking him- it was time to stop long enough to think about self from the aftereffects of precisely such an him. Most daunting of all, it was time to face imbroglio, starving for approval and distrustful his own rôle in what had happened between of it when it came. Even experiencing it as sec- them. Self-righteousness is all to the well and ond hand as Doyle had, had served to rationalise good, he was thinking as he put his key in his and entrench the visceral reaction he had had lock and went inside to begin the bedtime ritual, to Bodie’s rejection of him as anything more than and it’ll even keep you warm, if you handle it a bum-boy. properly. But it isn’t much use when you’re try- The zephyr had become a breeze, riffling ing to sort things out, is it? through his hair, cooling him, telling him it was He got as far as teeth-cleaning, face-washing time for bed. Between the ubiquitous crispness

£3£3£3 and using the toilet, but stopped before picking of white sheets, he lay stiff as a board, mind 120 up book or getting into bed. Elbows leaning on circling endlessly on the past and on Bodie. As £3£3£3 the open porthole, he turned his face to the clear as the light of day, he could see Bodie’s zephyr that was mild and warm, even at this profile, softened by the romantic table-top lan- hour of the night. There was a wonderful com- terns. With greater clarity yet, he could see the bination of aromas, of the sea and flowers, of trouble in that face and the woes, all the im- three of the world’s four elements combining. ages of lunchtime and evening swirling around The island off the starboard bow was prinked in a kaleidoscope that always settled into the by the lights of small, bleached houses, the sea pictures from the days when they were together. scudding past him was star-sparkled by the He could recall, with perfect detail, sitting with party lights of the ship itself. The air was heavy Bodie in the car, or side by side on the sofa, with moisture and scents, tying everything in watching the match on a Wednesday night or together. It was, in spite of his inner turmoil, the late film on BBC2. There were all the times endlessly calming. He was an island-dweller, no on stakeouts, in grotty little flats or squalid cafés. matter how large the island, with the lure of the There were the endless bum-warmings, sitting sea a part of his genes, enforced by the treat of waiting for Cowley to finish some meeting or holidays beside the sea, the ultimate treat for a other. Double dates, too, sharing a table with a child. Very calm, very serene, but without a couple of girls, his real attention focussed on single answer for him. He just didn’t know what the other man, on the way the lights made his to do about Bodie. Oh, he knew quite clearly hair shine, the way his eyes shone when he what he wanted to do about him, but then, that laughed or seduced. Wondering what the reac- probably wasn’t feasible. Bodie looked quite a tion would be if he were to propose taking the bit too big to be swept off his feet and carried girls back to the one flat and not splitting up over the threshold. when they got down to the serious action. And that was a thought that stopped him Dreaming of suggesting picking up a single girl dead, the breath jammed in his throat. Christ, to share between the two of them, and where he thought, wishing he believed, wishing it that would lead. Seduction was a fine art, one

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 he had mastered when he was very, very young, join them. Lunch ashore, probably dinner as but he’d never tried any of his games on with well, back to the ship a few minutes before sail- Bodie. It had always been too important with ing time and bob’s your uncle—no Bodie. A Bodie to warrant messing about. Of course, he whole day, without temptation, without the op- recognised with bitter mockery, it had taken him portunity to make a fool of himself, without the until Bodie left to realise exactly why he’d never time to get himself even more hooked than he wanted to play around with Bodie. Love really already was. was blind, wasn’t it? And also, a small voice that sounded suspi- Love. Bloody stupid thing to do, falling in love ciously like Cowley asked him, no time to hear with my partner, he sneered at himself, left hand Bodie’s side of the story? serpenting its way under the covers. Even more “All right, so I’m being bloody unfair and incredibly brilliant to fall for a bloke who can’t downright judgemental. It’s not one of our op- get the guts up to admit he’s gay: this, as he erations, is it?” he shouted at his shirt, which grasped himself, long slow strokes bringing lan- looked at him blankly. “Oh, fuck it,” he mut- guid arousal. But at least I had good taste: as tered, shouldering into the uncommunicative he pictured Bodie at dinner, hand moving faster. clothing, buttoning it up haphazardly and in- Best looking bloke aboard: as he pumped him- adequately, scrambling to shove sun-screen and self faster, spreading his legs to give his right money into the small holiday clutch he’d bought hand room to stroke his balls, his own musk at the airport on his way out. He’d skip break- warming the air under the summer blanket. fast, grab the first boat off the ship, buy some Gorgeous, the way his hair’s got that bit longer, bread or something on shore. He wanted out of and the way the muscles in his arms move, and there, fast, before temptation could bite his head his skin’s as perfect as it used to be: this, as he off and get him to do something stupid. stood fully erect, hips rolling, rubbing his but- Or simply something he was scared of do- tocks on the sheet, hand rubbing cock. ing? the insidious voice asked again. £3£3£3 Bodie, as he had walked away from him. He slammed the door to his cabin with un- 121 Bodie, making it into nothing more than rough warranted violence, waking up half the deck, £3£3£3 trade with him, Doyle, as the supplicant at the starting up a cacophony of annoyed shouts that feet of the straight man. Bodie, big-mouth Bodie, drowned out the sounds of his footsteps as he ex-merc from an unpopular war, caring more half ran topside. about society’s mores than he did about Doyle… The movements of his hand were harder now, It had been an unmitigated disaster, of faster, desperate, the coming a joyless release course. Oh, he hadn’t seen Bodie, in that re- of his body, cum spurting from him as misery spect he was completely successful. But physi- flooded him. Unless the leopard had changed cal absence did not a day without Bodie make. his spots, it was going to be a bloody horrible Every time he’d turned round on the island, he’d cruise. Snapping the bedclothes aside, he sprang caught sight of something he would, in times from the bed, standing under the hot shower gone by, have told Bodie about: the beach that for the eon it took to rebuild his calm and to begged nude sunbathing, the water that begged wash away the most minute residue of his want- swimming, the handsome men who begged bug- ing Bodie. gery. An hour on the island had displayed with bawdy enthusiasm why it was called ‘greek HE WAS, HE DECIDED, GOING TO AVOID BODIE FOR style’. He could have spent a fortune on the glory THE ENTIRE DAY. He’d have breakfast on deck, for that was on offer, or simply worn himself to a Bodie wasn’t one for getting up at six in the frazzle with gifted amateurs. The day wore on, morning, not even for food—especially not when lunching at a taverna that was both rustic the food was available all day and he was on enough and clean enough for the tourist in him. holiday. So breakfast would be undisturbed, Sitting there, valiantly refusing to think thoughts then there was going to be a port of call, he could carnal, when there he was, a direct descendant spend the day on that, perhaps with the Ameri- of the men who had inspired the artists to cre- can couple from dinner who had invited him to ate Greek gods. Hair tightly ringleted, swarthy

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 skin, dark eyed, broad-chested, lean hipped and pebble, made a cairn on top. No matter how he with prick and balls lying in bas relief under looked at it, the sad fact was that he’d go, run- painted on trousers. The kind of come hither ning at that, if Bodie asked him. And hell take that was going on between them had nothing the consequences, because he wouldn’t think whatsoever to do with language of the spoken about them until later. He drew circles in the sort, although it was certainly oral, judging by sand, decided they looked like planets, added the way the local licked his lips. So easy, of more circles until he had the solar system there, course, to go with him, up to the room that the stars at his fingertips. Well, he wasn’t ex- would be small and clean and face the sea, as actly surprised that he’d fall into bed with Bodie every house in this village seemed to, as if scorn- at the drop of a hat—or trousers, as Bodie ing the former magnificence that frowned wouldn’t be caught dead in a hat—so the next wrecked and pathetic upon the brow of the hill. question was what he would do after, when the A narrow bed, under the window, sun stream- ship docked and they made their disparate ways ing in… And, he reminded himself with marked to the airport and London. Always supposing reluctance, I don’t have any french letters with that Bodie was living in London again, that is. me, and much though I fancy him, I don’t much For all he knew, he could have gone back to fancy sleeping with everyone he’s been to bed Liverpool. For all he knew, he admitted quietly, with. Stricken with the restlessness of unaimed he could be divorced. anger, he strode from the taverna, money left A single swathe of his hand and the universe behind to pay for the meal he hadn’t finished, was gone. If Bodie were divorced, and just said the locals left to mutter about how it was better ‘see you’ when they docked, that would make it in the old days, before the foreigners came and all the worse, wouldn’t it? It was one thing to be left their manners at home. fucked and left, when there was a wife and chil- Hands stuffed in pockets, he eschewed all the dren and suburban propriety to consider, but

£3£3£3 places one was supposed to visit, descending when there was no barrier bar the disinclina- 122 down the steep hillside to the beach, finding a tion of Bodie himself, oh, that was so much £3£3£3 small inlet where he could sit disturbed only by harder to take. And going by his reaction ten the cruelty of Nature busy feeding birds. He years ago, he wasn’t much likely to take it at poured the white sand into little cones that all. melted away with the first slight meander of air Which brought him back to Bodie’s attitude over them, watching as it all came to nothing. to having sex with men, which brought him back Sometimes, no matter how hard he tried not to to their near-miss back then, which brought him let it get to him, no matter how he tried to take back to his own reasonable fears, which brought some time off away from it, all the news reports him full circle, nothing resolved, nothing an- and letters and sad, sad stories imprisoned him swered, nothing sorted out, least of all himself. in bleakness. Even here, idyllic island in an idyl- He kicked the small cairn to pieces, scuffing lic sea, there was no room for dreams, only an sand as he walked, head bowed, paying little ugly fact growing uglier. Use condoms, they said, attention to the vista around him. The spring for safe sex. But they recommended that had gone out of the day for him and he regret- condoms not be used as the sole form of birth ted now the panic that had driven him from the control because the failure rate was so high. ship before he had the chance to lose himself in But go right ahead, trust your life to a sliver of a crowd, burying himself in the chatter of strang- latex, put your faith in a flimsy bit of rubber. ers. Fat chance—he wasn’t about to give up living A clamber up the hill, full concentration on for the sake of a bit of sex. the job of getting back up to the path in one Oh yeah? he asked himself, thinking about piece and preferably with his clothing unripped, Bodie. And what would you do if he invited you gave him pause from his mental contortions, into his bed? the convulsive and compulsive worrying that Go. The answer was complete in and of it- he’d never been able completely subdue. From self, not needing him to think it before it came up there, he could see the gleaming white of the to mind. He dug a hole in the sand, buried a ship dazzling the sea, a beacon to follow. He

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 started off towards it, a decision made. If it was lobstering skin, he abruptly stopped dead in his inevitable that he was going to leap into bed the tracks, the man behind him rendering imagi- second Bodie suggested it, then he’d be damned native comments about what, precisely, he could if he’d hand all the control over to him. Inevi- do to himself for stopping like that. Doyle barely table, yes, but not beyond his control, not en- heard, a lifetime’s habit making him mutter the tirely. He’d simply nod graciously to that which inbred British apologies even while he himself he could not evade and take the reins firmly in was singularly uninvolved. his own hands: he was going to be the one to do Bareheaded in the sun, his moss green shirt the inviting here. He’d be the one to inveigle billowing with the freshening breeze, feet planted Bodie into bed, not the other way round. The firmly upon the steadiness of the deck, his in- choice would be his, and that way, at least, he’d sides were reeling. be able to keep some of his own pride intact. No He was going to have Bodie. Finally, after all whistle from Bodie and him coming running like these years when he had never—quite—been a grateful puppy. Not for him. He’d take the lead able to forget him, despite his loud protesta- in this, the dominant rôle and haul Bodie to tions to himself. The sculpted lines of Bodie’s bed—by the hair if need be. physique had always made those more muscu- It was quite a while, according to his impa- lar unappealing to Doyle, and those more slen- tience, before there was a boat to take him to der had always seemed effete. Before Bodie, he the ship, him chafing at the bit the entire time. had always had a thing for blonds, but of course, Now that the decision had been taken, he was after Bodie, it was the dark Celtic looks that churning inside, desire turning his guts liquid, had drawn him, hungry as a mouth for a flame. his cock already beginning its hopeful journey, Flame. Heat was licking at his groin, tingling lengthening along his thigh. All sorts of ques- along his fingertips, tickling at his nipples, all tions were clamouring at him for answers, their the places where the fieriness of desire took him sharp little voices banshee wails at the back of first. At least, it occurred to him, on this ship £3£3£3 his mind. He shut them up, firmly, battening no-one was going to complain if he walked 123 down the hatches, pouring the concrete of wil- around half-hard, were they? £3£3£3 fulness upon them. He knew perfectly well what I’m going to have Bodie. It went round and he was doing, he didn’t need any screaming nin- round his mind, a triumphant madrigal, spin- nies reminding him. Always one for a risk, al- ning and spinning until it had sucked all his ways one to weigh up a situation to determine if doubts and fears into its whirlpool, drowning the penalty was worth the prize, this situation, them with the possibilities of the present. The this cruise, had become a nice tidy box in the future, when it arrived, could take care of itself. sea of chaos that surrounded his dealings with He was sick to the back teeth of being mature Bodie. It was, he had decided, worth having and responsible and sensible: he’d been like that Bodie walk away, if he got to have him first. It since the time he’d cut that other kid up and was worth being nothing more than another given himself such a scare. I’m going to have notch on Bodie’s belt—always supposing Bodie Bodie. All of him, spread out for me, and I can was able to reduce it to that. There was that touch every last bit of him… fine thread glittering in Bodie’s eyes whenever Making the decision hadn’t been too difficult, he watched Doyle that made Doyle question the love and libido doing that particular job for him, current sincerity all Bodie’s old arrogant but finding the object of his desires proved to ‘straight’ posturings and question, too, just how be considerably more challenging. Eventually, great a risk he was taking of being unwanted. he admitted defeat and approached the Purser. As for disease, well, he’d find out just how happy Only to find that Bodie had gone ashore, miss- the stewards could be, wouldn’t he? If they ing Doyle’s boat by about five minutes. managed to work through the supply he had He was going to have Bodie—always suppos- brought with him, in case the spirit had been ing someone else didn’t get there first. There unwilling, but the flesh had overruled it. were a hell of a lot of mouthwateringly beautiful Negotiating the other passengers returning men on that island, and if Bodie’s attitudes were from shore with their ungainly souvenirs and the same as they had been before, the bastard

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 would be shagged out before he got back on closely, at himself, there was nothing for him board. Worry danced the clogdance on his to believe in at all. spine: and what was he going to do if Bodie had been heedless of the warnings they’d all BY THE TIME BODIE CAME ABOARD, DOYLE WAS LEAN- been overwhelmed with, until they got to the ING OVER THE RAILING, lost in thought, all the joy of stage where they didn’t want to hear the word future seduction drained away. Wind was barely AIDS again? What if Bodie had got the bit be- disturbing his short hair, the curls cut severely tween his teeth and ignored it all? For that short so as not to offend the stuffiness of matter, what if ‘it’ll never happen to me and if Whitehall. Usually, he even blow-dried his hair it does, all that happens is you die’ Bodie hadn’t into some facsimile of conformity, but the sea cared enough to give up so much of what made air and the damp breezes waylaid that, taking gay sex fun? If it was nothing more than spe- him close to what he’d been before, the first time cious sodomy to him, then he wasn’t likely to he’d met Bodie, hair still policeman short. He have let concern for the other bloke stand in was thinking about that first day, of the way his way, and Bodie would never believe him- they had simply fitted together as if they had self to be at risk. What was it he had said to always been each other’s better half. Thinking Bodie, one of the many accusations that had about the way he had wanted Bodie from the festered, undenied? Oh, yeh, that’s right. it’s first, but Bodie had always seemed too skittish not as if you kissed them or any of that queer to take him up on anything more than flirting. stuff, is it? And in that case… That’s what our Thinking about the roots that had been grow- neatly packaged Durex is for, isn’t it? It’d be ing, tangled, between them, making life together all right, he’d be careful. There were a lot of more deeply lodged, more a certainty. Thinking things they could do that were safe or at least, about the pain that must have been in Bodie to not overly risky. Lots of things. Except…he have driven him off so thoroughly…

£3£3£3 wanted to bury himself in Bodie, up to the hilt, “Ray?” 124 fucking him hard, able to feel him, not the la- “I was a right bastard to you, wasn’t I, Bodie? £3£3£3 tex that could save his life. Bodie’s life. He was Not much of a mate in the end.” clean, he knew, Cowley’s insistence on regular “Same could be said of me, couldn’t it?” checks attested to that. He was clean, as far as Bodie was coming up beside him now, prop- he knew, until the scientists changed their ping dark-sleeved arms on the balustrade, a minds on that and he discovered that even test- pose of ease, tension pouring out of him, the ing negative wasn’t enough. faintly heard footsteps silenced. Behind them, Christ, but he needed a drink. The horror there was the glittering glow of deck-top party, gnawed at his belly, this fear that loving some- music blaring, and even that was part of the one could kill them. He pushed it back, forcing gay statement of this cruise, all the artists bel- it down the way he had as a child when the lowing their lungs out known to be as gay as bus had made him travel sick. This was the the men dancing to them. The festooning lights kind of thing his doctors—Cowley’s doctors, to were swaying as the wind carolled through them, be accurate—had been nagging at him for. tossing shadows to and fro all around the two Worrying himself into an early grave over things men standing, in their own pocket of silence, he could do nothing about. He was trying to staring over the side of the ship, all the long live by the old adage, the one that taught a way down to the sea. Doyle didn’t look at Bodie, person to change what he could and live with knew that Bodie wasn’t looking at him. It seemed what he couldn’t, but he had no faith left to so much simpler that way, to speak and not put in God and precious little to put into any- look. Seeing him would make the needing start, one else. Even Cowley was no longer some and seeing him would expose his own eyes to mildly deified boss, but merely his superior, a Bodie’s perception. That was something he didn’t man he admired, a man with whom he had built need, not until after what needed saying was a friendship of honeycomb complexity and or- finally said. der. There was no-one, really, to believe in but “I couldn’t forgive you for leaving me, you himself. And often, when he looked closely, very know that, don’t you?

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “D’you think I could forgive you for forcing that. “Need to look the part, else Cowley won’t me out? But don’t let’s get started on all that be seen dead with me. Hated getting it cut, mind old crap, Ray. You always were one for blaming you.” yourself for everything under the sun, but not “It suits you.” Diffident, unsure, the compli- this one. We were both of us as bad as the other ment hesitating before Bodie could say it with- with this one. I had good reasons, Ray, and you out buffooning it into meaninglessness. “Listen, must’ve, too. Let’s just leave it at that and get Ray, I feel a right wally just saying it like this, on from there.” but it’s probably the only way you’re going to “You haven’t changed, have you? Sweep it hear it. This cruise…” He seemed to change tack, under the carpet and if we pretend it doesn’t the promised directness obfuscated. “I’ve never exist, perhaps it’ll go away?” His voice sharp- been one for facing things head on, you know ened with all the painfilled implications of life, that. Well, after a while of sweeping things un- if Bodie really hadn’t changed. “Is that how you der the carpet, you can’t do that any more. Just still work, Bodie? Christ, after this length of time, isn’t enough room. And I used to do that so I I’d’ve thought you’d be past that by now.” could tell myself how well I was coping, when I “Get your claws back in, Ray. I didn’t come wasn’t even looking at things, let alone sorting all this way to get into an argument with you.” them about.” It was Bodie’s turn to look behind He had actually forgotten that tone of voice, him, raucous life roaring away, while he whis- the mildness soft as butter to hide the whetting pered truths into the dark. “It got so bad, Ray, I stone beneath. A glance over his shoulder, to needed to get help. Yeah, superman Bodie, need- the merry mayhem, revellers twisting and gy- ing a trick cyclist.” rating in movements that really hadn’t changed “No shame in that, Bodie.” much since their ancestors had danced round “Yeh, some of your best friends are psychia- the fire. “Okay, I’ll be reasonable. So if you didn’t trists. It’s taken me a long time to even admit I come here for the aggro, what did you come here go to a doctor. Anyway, one of the things I fi- £3£3£3 for?” nally realised I had to do was start meeting 125 Tenterhooks pause, then Bodie answered things head on. Stop running away. Had to.” £3£3£3 him. “You always said I was all balls and no Doyle had to strain to hear the next words. brain. This is sort of…it’s a kind of…” “I had no where else to run.” A straightening He was intrigued by this, Bodie stumbling of the spine, a suspiciously emotional sniff, then visibly over words. To think this was the man Bodie went on, voice large and casual. “And who could casually quote Blake or Donne whilst that’s what brought me here. Decided that I ducking bullets astonished Doyle. “Come on, might as well do it in style, so here I am.” Bodie,” he said, donning the remembered ca- Doyle stared at this vision of pride, then burst maraderie with the comfort of old slippers, “it the proverbial bubble. “Decided to do what, can’t be that bad. Any road, anything you’ve Bodie?” done, I’ve done worse.” No response, save a small A long, long pause. “Hadn’t I said that bit? smile glimmering in the coloured lights of the Decided to finally stop pretending to myself and party and the audible swallow of nervousness. everyone else and come out.” Another effort, from Doyle, consumed with the “Come out? As in admit you’re gay?” need to know. “Now, I remember, when I was “Nah. Come out and admit I admire Kylie with the Drug Squad…” Minogue’s musical abilities. What other coming On cue, Bodie lowered his head, a resound- out is there? I’m a bit old to be a deb—not to ing snore ensuing. Then laughter, as quick and mention a bit on the butch side, chuck.” bright as the moon on the sea. “We had some “So this is the big event? Trust you, Bodie, high old times back then, didn’t we, Ray? Some oh, trust you. The rest of us do a person at a of the things we got up to, make your hair curl. time, a little bit here, a little bit there. You—you Not that you needed any help.” go on a fucking cruise!” Doyle saw the aborted gesture of hand, the “I did do it a bit at a time. Most of the people secret, then stifled, movement to reach up and I work with know.” touch his hair. Bodie always had loved doing “What about your wife?”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 A drawing away, big signs reading ‘don’t put his wine glass back on the serving cart, tak- touch’ erupting like boils. “Divorced four years ing a tumbler instead. ago. Don’t even know where she is.” “Gave it up.” He shouldn’t ask, he knew; should respect “For Lent? They put you on those little pink the tangible cloak of discomfort. But he had to pills again? Or,” with sudden comprehension know, had to… “Children?” and genuine concern, “are you off it perma- “Two. Boys, right pair of tearaways from what nently?” I hear.” “Only for today, Ray, only for today. Course,” “You don’t see them, then?” wry humour, the once-loved quirk of the eye- He thought he wasn’t going to get an answer brow, “I’ll be saying that first thing tomorrow as this time and when it came, it wasn’t what he well, won’t I?” expected. “Look, I don’t know about you, but Doyle watched him, eyes clear and unblink- my feet are killing me. Spent the whole day ing, knowing that he had to make Bodie say it. traipsing over that bloody island looking for you. He wanted everything laid out on the table be- And it’s getting a bit cool for me. D’you mind if fore them, no more playing poker the way they we go in for dinner?” He must have seen Doyle’s had when they were younger and more foolish. slight withdrawal, and read it for the reaction it Bodie said it. “I’m an alcoholic.” was. “I’m not going to clam up on you, Ray. “Does it bother you if I have a drink?” Just… It’s a bit much, all at once, and with us “Doesn’t make it any easier.” standing here where people might overhear. Why That admission seemed to cost Bodie a lot, an don’t we go to my cabin, have the steward bring admitting of weakness that was obviously, pain- us something?” fully obviously, difficult. It occurred to Doyle, A case of condoms? Doyle wondered, as he watching the tense man across the table, that acquiesced, leading the way to his own cabin, he wasn’t exactly making it easy on Bodie. Here

£3£3£3 not Bodie’s. Home ground had its advantages, he was, expecting Bodie to have completely 126 even if it were only a rented cabin. Uneasiness changed everything about himself to make it bet- £3£3£3 was stirring sluggishly, memories intruding of ter for Raymond Doyle, and he himself was re- the time before, when they’d torn their partner- peating the badgering mistakes of the past. “Well,” ship apart. He wanted to trust Bodie, in fact, he eventually said, “in that case, your sparkling were he to be honest, he did trust Bodie, but water looks just the thing, doesn’t it?” He went his head was screaming caution at him, throw- and poured the wine down the bathroom sink, ing so many bitterly lonely nights in his face running the water after it, remembering how that he was in danger of being blinded to the much Bodie had loved the bouquet of wine. prospects in front of him. Reseating himself, he was startled by the expres- They were in the cabin, small table set up, sion that was, fleetingly, in Bodie’s eyes. Before meal—but no condoms—delivered, the two of he could be sure, before he could pin it to any- them perched on the small folding chairs that thing other than wishful thinking, it was gone. matched the table for their ability to engender a “But fair’s fair,” he warned, setting them back serious attack of insecurity. The steward had on an even keel. “I won’t drink, and don’t you been dismissed with dispatch and a hefty tip, go eating the stuff I can’t have.” leaving them to set the table and serve them- “Have you got religion or something?” selves. The domesticity of it all was soothing, “Dodgy heart. And you can wipe that look off harking back to once well-established habits, your face and all. I was on a case, got careless, Doyle dealing with the food, Bodie dealing with they got into my flat and almost took me off the the cutlery and wine. As he dished up his own job permanently. The bullet nicked the heart, plate, Doyle noted the hair-trigger tremble of invalided me out of active duty and got me kicked Bodie’s hand on the wine, then it was gone, the upstairs as Cowley’s right hand.” burgundy poured with panache and unexpect- “And all you have to do is watch your choles- edly flawless French. terol and all that?” “It’s bloody good, this, mate. Aren’t you go- Doyle shrugged, minimising something he ing to have some?” This, after Bodie had quietly lived with every day until it had become noth-

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 ing much to him. “And take the pills—little blue Couldn’t handle my life, so I started drinking. ones, foul tasting things. Don’t look so worried, Got worse and worse, started lifting my hand to Bodie. I’m in better nick than blokes half my Claire and she did the clever thing—she walked age.” out on me. Came home one morning and the “Apart from a bad heart.” house was empty. No make-up in the bathroom, “It’s not a bad heart,” he repeated in the same no toys on the stairs. No baby crying in the back voice of barely surviving patience he used on bedroom. Next thing I heard from her was her his superiors and doctors, “it’s a minor condi- solicitor sending me the papers. Went to court, tion that requires preventative medicine. That’s denied drinking, of course, even though the it. Like your drinking.” judge could smell it on me. She got custody. He was surprised by the sudden flood of red She also had a boyfriend by that point, and the rising to cover Bodie’s face. boys were already calling him dad instead of “My drinking wasn’t something minor, Ray. me.” D’you think I’d give up booze just for a minor No emotion in the words, but the voice was problem?” hoarse, the movements jerky, a cup cracking “Is that why your wife left you?” on impact. “I wouldn’t admit I had a problem “Oh, still the copper, eh? It’s obvious which with drink, blamed everything on her. And the one of us left CI5, isn’t it though? You’ll be boyfriend. Went berserk. Went over to her house pleased to hear your interrogation techniques one night, kicked the door down—at least that’s are better than ever.” what the police say—and ended up in the local “Now who’s starting?” cop shop with a hangover and an emergency Silence, ostensibly while they ate, in actual- order against me seeing my kids again.” ity, while they buried the hatchet. Picking at “Is that when you went on the wagon?” dessert, Doyle conceded that it was wonderful “The first time, yeah. But it only lasted a to be this close to Bodie again, to be this sure couple of weeks—I can stop any time I want to, £3£3£3 that they were going to be lovers, if only for the is what I always said. And I could, you know. 127 duration of the cruise. Not even the glare of the Could stop any time I wanted to. Only problem £3£3£3 overhead light could diminish Bodie’s attractive- was, I couldn’t stay stopped, could I?” ness for him, the signs of age adding interest to Doyle sat on the bed, letting Bodie fold the the handsome face. Every time he looked up chairs, watching while he tidied up with com- from his plate, Bodie would be watching him, a pulsive concentration. “If losing your family shuttered expression that revealed almost noth- didn’t stop you, what did, Bodie?” ing. He pushed the culinary remains aside and “Went to France,” Bodie was saying, as if he poured them both coffee from the elegant white hadn’t heard Doyle. “Had an old mate there from carafe. “Are you going to tell me about your chil- the Service. He had one of those security con- dren then?” The question felt strange on his lips, sulting firms and I went in on it with him. a surreal topic to be discussing with Bodie of all Course, France is the last place you should go people. if you don’t want to drink. Mind you, I didn’t Bodie drank half his coffee in slow sips be- want to stop, not really. If I stopped, I’d have to fore he began to answer, hands flat on the table start thinking and I’d have to start living and in front of him. “Two boys, one’s almost nine feeling and I didn’t want to do that. Couldn’t do and one’s almost eight. Both of them call some- that, I don’t think, not then. Anyway, showed one else ‘dad’ and there’s a restraining order up for a job with a drink in me—not drunk, but against me seeing them.” I’d got to the point where I didn’t get drunk much Such bald facts to cover such bitter self-hate. any more. Just never got sober, that’s all. Al- “Want to tell me the rest of it?” most got myself killed.” A surge of energy and Bodie was on his feet, He sat down then, on the foot of the bunk, piling crockery and cutlery on the dinner trol- hands dangling between his thighs. Ray’s hands ley, pouring un-drunk drink down the sink, fold- were itching to touch, to hold him close and tell ing the table out of the way all the while he he didn’t need to say any more, but he didn’t, spoke. “Same story as my own dad. Drink. stuffing his rebellious hands in his pockets out

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 of harm’s way. It would only be being kind to be “A.A. of course. Couldn’t face a clinic or a cruel, in the long run, if he stopped Bodie talk- hospital.” ing. He knew himself, from one or two never “Too much like admitting defeat and letting discussed nights with George Cowley, just how someone else dry you out?” healing it could be to let it all cascade out. There “Dead right. First night there, it got through was something else he had perfected in his as- my thick skull that this was going to be a hell of sociation with Cowley, and that was the fine art a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. of starting someone off talking and then just And that I was going to have to mend what was sitting back and listening. He pummelled a bothering me so badly that I started drinking in couple of pillows into a comfortable contortion the first place.” and propped himself up on them, never once “Which is where the trick cyclist came in?” taking his eyes from Bodie, both fascinated and “Yeh. And this cruise, eventually. I decided entranced by the man. He had never seen this that I really needed an event, something that I side of Bodie, not fully, and he was falling far- could look back at and say,” he took on the voice ther and farther inside the man. of Black Rod rapping on the door of Parliament, Bodie was frowning as he spoke, the words “‘on this day, I, William Andrew Philip Bodie, tumbling from him and into Doyle. “After that, I did stop hiding and lying and let the world see did what any exile does when he’s failed—I ran just what they’d been missing’.” He drooped away from my new life and came running home suddenly and Doyle was reminded of Pinocchio to England. Except England wasn’t home any after his strings had been cut. “That covers me. more. I was miserable, absolutely bloody mis- What about you, Ray?” erable, but I blamed that on the rotten weather Doyle shrugged. “Not much to tell. Stayed on. we were having and the rotten luck I was hav- Ran the gauntlet, stuck out the publicity and ing, anything but on me and my drinking. I the laughing behind my back, gave as good as I

£3£3£3 couldn’t get work, my money was beginning to got when the nasties started, the whole bit. Got 128 run low, and the worse it got, the more I drank, shot, George stuck me behind a desk, started £3£3£3 and the more I drank, the worse it got. Then—” getting me ready to take over for him when he a huge breath, and Doyle watched as sturdy fin- retires. That’s it, really.” gers laced themselves together as if to hold some “What about…” the delicacy of the question horror within their grasp, the knuckles turned seemed to be giving Bodie difficulties, the bed- white. “Then, I woke up one morning, face down spread being pleated and unpleated before he in a back room of some old warehouse. I had no actually asked it. “What about… relationships? idea where I was or how I’d got there. Didn’t You settled down with someone?” know what I’d been doing. But there was blood “Was, for a while.” To the look of interroga- on me, my knuckles were all skinned and I’d a tion and hungry curiosity. “Mark Ferguson. Nice broken bone in my foot. I’d been fighting, I knew bloke, was with him for a couple of years.” that much. Just didn’t know who, or why. And “What went wrong with him?” I was sitting there, Ray, covered in someone “What always went wrong, Bodie? The bloody else’s blood and I didn’t know if I’d killed him or job, that’s what. The hours, the security, hav- not. I could’ve, of course, my training with the ing people more or less in your bedroom mak- SAS would’ve seen to that even if Cowley hadn’t. ing sure you’re not sleeping with the enemy, you I just didn’t know. Then I realised that some of remember the routine.” Bodie simply looked at the wet on me wasn’t blood, it was piss. Imag- him and Doyle remembered to whom he was ine, me—me—so drunk I’d peed myself! And my speaking: this wasn’t one of the new recruits or head felt like it was going to explode, I was sick one of the friends he’d made in recent years. as a dog and my kidneys were giving me gyp. This was a man who had known him better than And that was the morning that finally did it. anyone else had, in some ways, in the ways that Not knowing if I’d killed someone and not even Doyle had known himself. Sometimes, the lies really caring. I was more worried about peeing that fooled himself hadn’t fooled Bodie, who had myself than twepping someone.” never been slow to stick in his tuppenceworth. “So then what?” “Okay, okay, so it was more than that. He got

It took him a minute, but he was finally able the codes and stuff he had access to in his job £3£3£3 to control his rampant hysteria. “Us, that’s in one of the intelligence departments—George 129 what’s so funny. Cowley, I’ll bloody kill the old never said which one, but I got the impression £3£3£3 bastard. D’you want to hear something really it was Army. Anyway, the senior Cowley funny, Bodie?” wouldn’t be a traitor, but he couldn’t face be- “Oh, do tell. Did he set us up? Cowley?” ing found out and he couldn’t face his family “The doctors’ve been after me to watch the finding out about him. Their dad was dead by stress, cos they claim it plays havoc with my now and the family honour was all on Alastair’s heart. And lo and behold, a month ago, George shoulders, poor sod. You know how the Scots walks into my office, tosses this packet of travel are about their bloody family name and all that stuff on my desk and informs me that the cruise shite, so you can imagine how he felt about starts on the 14th and it ‘had better not be leav- being threatened with a letter to his church ing without you, laddie, or it’ll be me you’ll be minister. One night, he went out to one of the answering to, not they bloody doctors’. He even bridges and jumped off it. The blackmailers paid for it, Bodie!” didn’t know he had done it until after they’d He sobered quickly enough when he realised sent off their latest billet doux and it was our that Bodie didn’t seem to be sharing his amuse- George that opened it. The rest is history. He ment. went off his rocker and swore up and down “Pull the other one, it’s got bells on. George that he’d never let anyone he knew go through Cowley’s a Bible thumper, there’s no way on that again, not if he could help it.” God’s green earth that he’d pay to get two fair- “And I came bloody close to topping myself, ies together. Don’t come it with me, Doyle. If so he…” you’ve been up to something, then just tell me, “Stepped in and mended it as best he could. don’t lie. Cowley playing Cupid—what is he, our You know what he’s done, don’t you? Seen that fairy godmother?” you’d got yourself sorted out and put us right “I’ll tell you what he is, Bodie, he’s a man back to where we were before he fucked things with a guilty conscience. I got him drunk one up royally by forcing us out.”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 He forgot to breathe, for a second, when Bodie ing bodies. No exchange of body fluids, not looked at him then. “And where does that leave into me, any way.” us, Ray? Where were we ten years ago?” Doyle fiddled with his watch, taking it off and “On the verge of something big.” stuffing it under the pillow, his bracelet coming “You should be so lucky, darling.” A sudden off to be played with by restless hands. “Bodie, quirk of humour, taking the solemnity, leaving you never actually got round to saying it, but the seriousness. all your problems, I mean your marriage and “I would, you know. Be lucky, if we got to- drinking and all, that all came from you trying gether.” to pretend to yourself that you weren’t gay, didn’t “You reckon?” it?” “Yeh.” He made a great show of checking “Who, me? Nah, nothing like that. It was just Bodie out from the roots of his longish—by Bodie too, too much for me, being so modest and yet standards—hair to the toes of his summer having to cope with being so absolutely, divinely shoes, pointedly lingering at the important little perfect.” places. “I’ve seen worse.” Doyle erupted in laughter, his filthy chuckle “What are you looking for, Ray?” Such seri- warming the room. To be sitting here, with Bodie ousness, intensity as hard as agate, the need a camping it up great guns, made him ridiculously vortex in his eyes. happy. Bodie wasn’t the only one who had spent “Happiness.” Unequivocal, he merely said it too many years trying to deny to himself a fact flat out, neither yielding nor attacking. “And that was irrefutable. For Doyle, that fact was failing that, then… Don’t the women’s mags call not the question of his sexuality, but rather the them holiday romances? Spend the rest of the question of his emotional ties. He was bound to cruise together, have sex as often as your de- Bodie, had seemed to be even before he laid eyes crepit bones can manage?” It felt so right to go on him, that first meeting of theirs having an

£3£3£3 back to the old way of slagging each other off, audible ‘click’. “Something I’m curious about, 130 using black humour and friendly insult to pa- though, Bodie and be serious, you great prat. £3£3£3 per over the cracks in their façade of invulner- Are you gay or bisexual?” ability. He nodded at the bell-push that was to “According to my shrink I’m functionally bi- summon the stewards. “It’s not just food they sexual. But I’m a disaster with women when it deliver, did you know that?” comes to emotions and they say you repeat the “What—do they have a nice line in marital patterns you learned as a kid, so if that’s the aids or something?” case, it’s best if I don’t ruin any poor cow’s life “They’ve got a nice line in another kind of the way my dad did for my mum. Anyway, I fi- AIDS. Bodie…” Always the awkward moment, nally stopped running away from it and admit- the shuffling around to find a way to ask. ted I like blokes better. And you know what “I’m negative. You?” people are like: you’re either one or the other, And he wondered what Bodie’s reply would you can’t be both. But that’s not the real rea- be if he said positive. It would tell him every- son. My body works both ways, but my feelings thing he needed to know about what Bodie are hooked on a man. So in my books, that wanted, about how Bodie felt for him. Every- makes me gay.” thing, revealed by that one small answer. But “Aren’t you going to ask me?” the temptation passed as soon as the philistine “You? You’d fuck anything moving. And you thought crossed his mind. It was, after all, not get infatuated with women, but when push the kind of thing to lie about: be careful what comes to shove, you’d rather have a man.” you wish for. “Negative, as of three weeks ago. They sat and looked at each other in the un- Funnily enough, it was one of the things George expected silence, abruptly awkward with each got on at me to do for this cruise of his.” other. “Now what are we supposed to say? I “A week ago for me. Haven’t had many since mean, actually putting it in black and white like it started, been too busy running away from that, I half expect my dad to come in and ask being gay to have the balls to do anything your intentions. It’s like one of these encounter about having blokes, bar buggering a few will- group things, isn’t it?”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “Except they don’t expect to go to bed to- simple honesty. Instead, he wrapped his arms gether, do they, Ray?” around Bodie’s broad shoulders, and kissed The fumbling words that had been falling over him with all the passion he owned. The shirt his foot to get out of his mouth stopped. “We are was too rough, when compared to what he going to, aren’t we? Tonight?” imagined the skin to be, so he removed it, his “Yeah.” mind barely aware of what his hands were do- The silence was not awkward this time, but ing until the exquisite moment when he it was long and filled with looks and questions touched the warm expanse of Bodie’s back. He unsaid. Neither one of them seemed able to take arched up, and his cock surged into volcanic the final step, to take the final risk, until Doyle contact with Bodie, making him writhe with moved the foot that had been resting, dormant, desire. against Bodie’s thigh. He opened his eyes to see what Bodie was Then Bodie was upon him, inarticulate doing, pulling away from him like that, then noises coming from both of them, Doyle hold- relaxed into an embrace he trusted above all ing him tight while Bodie kissed the world away. else. He lay as Bodie arranged him, as He flattened himself on the bunk, pulling Bodie spreadeagled as the bunk would allow, and in on top of himself, cocooning himself in the watched through half-closed eyes as Bodie be- heat of the other man’s overwhelming presence. gan the serious task of making love to him. His There was nothing for him to be aware of, apart shirt was lifted, minutely, aside, the skin of col- from Bodie: all his eyes could see, all his ears larbone revealed and kissed, small, damp kisses. could hear, all his mouth could taste, was Inch by inch, his body was uncovered and with Bodie. It was better than it had ever been, even each revelation, there were tiny kisses, bedeck- in the furtive dreams that lurked in his bed ing him like stars, tangling themselves in the waiting for his guard to fade, far better even hair of his chest, climbing the peaks of his than the guilty nights when it had been Bodie nipples. He was loved, and thoroughly; there £3£3£3 with whom he had made love, although the was no room for doubt when it came to that, so 131 person there had had another name outside he cast aside that burden from the past, that £3£3£3 the bed. He’d never before been comfortable empty space filled by the tightly-controlled cher- with letting someone else cover him like this, ishing that Bodie was lavishing upon him. His not even with Mark for whom he’d made such feet were laid bare, the arches and the insteps protestations of trust and equality. It was ter- laved, the toes sucked, the tingle shooting all ribly hard for a man who lived by the gun and the way to his scalp. the vitriol of politics to hand power over to In the brightness of the cabin he lay, sprawled someone who ruled his life with the and naked, cock rampant and hard over his mundanities of intellect. He spread his legs, belly, as Bodie stripped for him. He devoured looking for Bodie’s weight to settle on him, so the sight, for watching Bodie had long been one that their cocks could be pressed together. Un- of his most favoured pastimes. The long cock, der the circumstances, even their summer rose-dark, tip glistening, made his mouth ache clothes seemed oppressively bulky, tyrants to be filled. He wanted to taste him, suck him keeping them apart. He reached down between in, feel the cum explode on the back of his throat them, fumbling to shove fabric aside, his hands and slide down into his belly. He wanted lick colliding with Bodie’s. His fingers were taken, and nibble and suck until his jaw hurt, or until held tight and brought upwards and he was Bodie was slick enough to put it inside him, to filled with a shivering tenderness when he fill his arse with pleasure. As he ate him up with watched Bodie turn him palm upward and kiss his eyes, Bodie swallowed, Adam’s apple bob- the soft skin. He felt that kiss and what it be- bing, eyes fixed on the handsome cock that tokened, through all his body, waking those tapped against Doyle’s belly. few cells that still lay fallow, pleasure rushing “I want you to fuck me, Ray.” into him. He wanted to return the gesture, to That brought his fantasies to an abrupt end. reciprocate the meaning, but there was noth- “You want me to what?” ing he could do that would speak with such “Fuck me.”

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “I thought you didn’t do that, Bodie.” Doyle who was flat on the bed, but Bodie. He The unease and the fear were blatant, vying spanned him like a bridge, knees between for dominion over the passion and the need. “I Bodie’s thighs, mouth lowered to kiss the mouth don’t, not usually. I’ve never wanted to before. that devoured him. Without hurry, exerting all Christ, Ray, I was scared I wouldn’t want it with his control to make this first time last, to make you.” his body listen to him and not explode in three “Bodie,” he whispered, gentle as he knew how seconds flat, he traced with lingering tongue- to be, “are you telling me you’re a virgin?” tip, the inner contours of Bodie’s mouth, rel- “Yeah. And no.” ishing every texture and every taste, every ca- “What d’you mean, yes and no? Hate to be ressing joust of Bodie’s tongue. Hands were cra- the one to break it to you, but you have to be dling his head, holding him still, while Bodie one or the other.” drank his fill from him, until Doyle’s cup of plea- “I’ve never let anyone do it to me before, but sure overflowed. I’ve been…playing with myself, you know, there, Under him, Bodie was pushing up, trying to and I sort of liked it. A lot. But I’ve never let rub them together, the very tip of his cock graz- anyone inside my body before.” ing Doyle’s belly, dappling pre-cum in the hair “And that’s fucking terrifying, isn’t it? Come there, sending little nuzzling jolts of arousal here, Bodie, come on, relax. No-one’s said we through him. He lowered himself, suddenly, have to fuck. It’s not as if there’re any rules for heavily, a puff of air from Bodie filling his mouth, this kind of thing. Come on, we can fuck an- then the indrawn breath when their cocks other time, when you’re ready.” touched, rubbing hard one on the other, Doyle “No we won’t, we’ll do it tonight. It’s impor- rotating his hips to better feel the delicacy and tant, Ray, it means something to me.” Doyle the hardness under him. He tweaked at nipples shivered at Bodie’s words and in the wake of that were already mountainous, stroked skin

£3£3£3 the finger that lifted his cock, stroking it once, that already shivered, kissed a man who was 132 then letting it go to stand at attention again. already hungry for him. The tide of pleasure was £3£3£3 “I’ve never really wanted anyone to do me like rising in them and he was in danger of being this before, but I want you—when I’m not scared swept away: he couldn’t allow that. Tonight shitless about it. And it means something about meant something, tonight was important: he’d us, doesn’t it? If we don’t do it, then this’ll never not throw it away just because simply being this amount to anything over a good shag, a conve- close to Bodie felt too good. nient bonk between mates. It has to be every- “Let me up,” he said into Bodie’s mouth and thing, Ray.” felt himself kissed all the harder, a rain of hun- Doyle caressed the satin mound of rounded ger over his face and neck, with the thunder of buttock, twisting himself round a little until he his own pulse ringing in his ears. “I’m serious, could butterfly his finger against the hole that Bodie, let go a minute.” opened Bodie’s body. Canopied over him, he saw Blue eyes came into gradual focus, startling Bodie arch and close in on himself as the plea- him with the unbridled warmth. “Only for a sure ricocheted through his body. He pressed minute, mind. I’m enjoying this…” again, more firmly, the very tip of him going in- Standing beside the bunk, memorising the side Bodie. “Yeh, that’s it, that’s what you really sight of utter hedonism, Doyle thought that was want, isn’t it?” he whispered, with something probably the understatement of the century. close to awe. In all his ponderings, it had never Bodie was flushed rosy at his neck and rosier occurred to him that fucking Bodie would ever still at his cock, pre-cum glittering in the light, be more than a fabulous fantasy, for he had languid limbs sprawled in a beautiful clutter of believed Bodie to be one of those men who sim- flesh. As he watched, Bodie’s hands couldn’t ply could not let another man violate the sanc- keep still, reiterating the pleasure that Doyle tity of his body. But this sighing pleasure seep- had been giving him, pressing on cock, pinking ing from Bodie promised something else. He at nipples, rubbing the sensitive skin of his belly. moved round, quickly, easily man-handling the Stuff retrieved from the drawer, Doyle climbed pliant Bodie into position, until it was no longer up beside him again, gracelessly twisting to grab

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 one of the pillows from where it had fallen to he reach for the condom, the ripping of the pack- the floor, stuffing it under Bodie’s hips. The angle age quiet amidst the panting of Bodie’s breath. was better then, setting him higher on Bodie, But Bodie had obviously heard him and Doyle’s making sure that he’d be able to kiss him while fingers stilled in their business while Bodie gath- the fucking was going on. That distraction, that ered himself. display of affection would be important, if Bodie “Here, give that to me. I want to do it, Ray, had any fear left in him about this. He settled haven’t really had the chance to touch you.” himself between Bodie’s legs, lying down as if The condom was taken from him, Bodie get- Bodie were the most comfortable of feather beds. ting up on his knees to crouch before him, He kissed him again, sucking on his neck like tongue flickering at the base of his cock, mouth an edentate vampire, licking the reddening mark sucking on his inner thigh, adding to his cata- with gentle benediction. He suckled on a nipple, logue of pleasure. The condom was smoothed and while Bodie was arching and gasping at that, onto him, tugged firmly into place, Bodie’s slipped a finger down to the small hole that hid, mouth dropping on him unexpectedly. coy, between the richness of buttocks. There was “Sealed with a kiss,” Bodie grinned up at him, no shrivelling of fear at that, so he took some of his open mouth trailing its way back up Doyle’s the spermicidal cream and smoothed that in- abdomen, only to come to an abrupt halt. side, his finger going deeper now. Bodie seemed “Should’ve warned you about that, shouldn’t to pause, listening with rapt attention to the I? Not a pretty sight.” sound of what Doyle was doing inside his body, His scars were traced by the tip of Bodie’s then there was a spasm, a shiver, and Doyle felt tongue, again and again, Bodie’s face as closed him relax with determination. as his eyes. “It’s all right, Bodie,” Doyle said, “It’s all right, Ray. Like it…” his hands kneading the muscles of Bodie’s He withdrew that finger, sent it back in again shoulders. “It’s not your fault you weren’t there with a friend, ladened with more cream, the to stop me being stupid. Anyway, guilt’s my de- £3£3£3 passage becoming slick and inviting. Great heav- partment. Now get up here and let me kiss 133 ing breaths helped calm him, giving him pause you…” £3£3£3 enough to regain the control he needed to have, He tumbled them back to the bed, his con- so he left off sucking on Bodie’s nipples and trol suddenly exhausted and fled. That last kiss, licked down his torso to suck on his cock. The the love that had been in it, had gone to his taste exploded through him and he thought he head, making him dizzily intoxicated with the might die if he didn’t take this man into him, sheer joy of making love with Bodie. There was have his cum erupt, sliding down his throat. a part of himself standing off in the corner, With large regret, he pulled his mouth away, propped against the wall, arms folded, staring unable to resist the temptation of a farewell kiss on in utter incredulity: this was not something to the crown. Later, perhaps, they could chance he had ever expected, not in a million years. He it, but not at this stage. Boide was a quivering feasted on it, his common sense in the corner mass splattered on the bed and Doyle wondered there fearing a famine that could follow, but for just how long it had been since Bodie had done the moment, all he was interested in doing was this with a man, for it looked as if it had been forging them together with the heat of their pas- even longer than Doyle himself had. And for sion, fusing them into one möbius strip of end- Bodie, too, this would be a rare pleasure, some- less delight. thing only newly indulged in since he had His cock was nudging at Bodie, reminding dredged up enough courage to face himself. Oh, them both of how lonely it was. Manœuvring yes, despite what his body was screaming at them closer, he felt his cock press against the him, this was not a time to be hurried. He took bud of flesh that guarded Bodie, felt the body care, then, to caress Bodie to the point of whim- yield, himself press home—and the sudden ri- pering, helpless ecstasy, until the eyes were gidity of once supple flesh, the clawing tight- closed and the head tossing side to side on the ness of muscle hurting him, Bodie suddenly, pillow, the cock jerking with minute spasms of frighteningly distant although their skin still enormous pleasure. Then, and only then, did touched.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 “Don’t!” and his cock was going inside. Muscle clung to He stopped, waited, giving command of this him, stopping him and he waited. Bodie may over to Bodie, letting Bodie call all the shots, have been playing with himself, but that was a forcing himself into passivity when all he world away from the impact of the real thing. wanted to do was spread Bodie’s legs and shove Doyle was caught in flesh, virgin-tight, holding himself into him as deep as he could go. In- him hard, squeezing him, squeezing him… stead, he dabbled a single finger tip against He couldn’t wait a single second longer, Hips the anal bud, reminding Bodie of the pleasure, pushing forward, inch by slow inch he pen- helping him over the moment of fear. He knew etrated Bodie, taking his body for his own, join- what was going through Bodie: fear, certainly, ing them, locking them together. Bodie’s face to allow one’s body to no longer be inviolate. was transfused with pleasure, broken phrases Fear, also, of losing one’s manhood, of suddenly tumbling from him, his body undulating under becoming less, becoming eunuch. Fear, prob- Doyle, pulling his cock in closer. Strong arms ably, echoing from some of the things he’d seen reached up to grab Doyle, to pull him down until as a merc and a soldier and from too many their mouths could cling together, while their wickedly gleeful tales. Most of all, though, for bodies clung as one. Bodie’s cock was digging Bodie, the final confession to himself, the final into his belly, snub head rubbing, in perfect moment from which there could be no return. harmony with the snub rub, rub, rubbing of his He had never counted himself queer, because own cock deep inside flesh that was so perfectly all he had ever done was bugger other blokes. hot. It was the other men who had been queer, to Drawing back a little to catch his breath, he his way of thinking, it was the other men to caught instead the sight of Bodie, his Bodie, whom all the vicious invective learned over a transfixed upon his cock, penetrated, no longer lifetime applied. And here he was, lying flat on a completely separate human being, but con-

£3£3£3 his back, legs splayed like a woman, letting joined until there was no marking where one 134 himself be buggered. Sodomised. And even as began and the other ended, save for the physi- £3£3£3 those words sent a thrill of arousal through cal line where his cock stretched Bodie to his Doyle himself, he recognised that the thrill they limit. He couldn’t resist the beauty of it, plung- sent through Bodie would be coloured with fear ing in, pulling out, watching his body be ab- and doubts. Give him time, he told himself, sorbed and consumed and renewed by Bodie, hands caressing, give him time… watching as they were in such complete uni- “Okay. Go ahead. Slowly…” son. Bodie was wild under him now, muttering Very carefully, making sure that everything at him, cursing him, saying words of what he did was in response to the minuscule cues sounded like love. Doyle opened his mouth to from Bodie, he took his time rimming flesh that Bodie’s, taking the words inside the way Bodie was so pink and tender, it made him want to was taking his cock inside, sucking him in, feed- kiss it. He did, plunging his tongue inside Bodie’s ing on him. There was a plash of heat against darkness, hearing a shout of pleasure as he did. his belly then a profound stillness in Bodie as The spermicide was bitter on his tongue, but the explosion of pleasure took him, muscles the flesh was pliant and luxuriant and most contracting once, twice, thrice around Doyle, importantly of all, it was Bodie. His own cock holding him as still as Bodie, making him stop was as desperate as Bodie’s, nagging him, to watch. threatening him with coming too soon. Bodie Then he was held tightly, Bodie surging un- was ready, a faint frown marring his forehead, der him, Bodie’s words hot breath in his ear, but that was less than he had expected. He po- Bodie’s mouth devouring wet on his, Bodie’s sitioned himself, hooking Bodie’s knees over his tongue claiming his, Bodie’s hands pressing shoulders, angling himself so that he would slide down on his arse, moving him to the rhythm in nice and easy. Right hand to guide himself, Bodie wanted, the control taken from him and he pressed the head of his cock to Bodie’s arse, pure pleasure refunded in its place. He let Bodie feeling the flesh part, feeling the final, convul- move him, pistoning him in and out, Bodie’s sive tightening of fear, and then that was gone hands large and hot on him, damp with their

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 DEVICES AND DESIRES £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 sweat combined. He was soaring, high as a kite yawn, “I c’n still feel you inside?” A wiggle that on feelings, then Bodie’s finger found him, en- dislodged Doyle’s hand from the cushion of but- tering him, and Bodie’s mouth was on his, tock. “’S nice. Could get addicted to that, you Bodie’s tongue in him and the cycle and circle know.” was complete. He came, a cry wrenched from Doyle settled down beside him, draping him- his throat to be absorbed by Bodie, cum self half over the recumbent form, coorying in wrenched from his cock, to be absorbed by close, not bothering with blankets even though Bodie. he knew the cold later would wake them up. It Exhausted, he could do nothing more than was, after all, as good an excuse as any for mak- lie there and feel fingers stroking through his ing love again. hair, eliminating the waviness that had been “’M glad Cowley’s an interferin’ old bastard. such hard work but the closest he could come Missed you, sunshine…” to Whitehall respectability. Then Bodie was gone, sound asleep, all “Prefer it curly,” the voice murmured, all cot- shagged out, as Doyle thought to himself with ton wool and dreams. “Like it best when it’s all giddy humour. He could hardly believe it: to long and just begging to be touched. Used to come this far, only to go back to the beginning day-dream about running my hands through again. He stroked a fingertip along the lush eye- your hair and holding it to keep you still when I lashes, watching the eye twitch in sleep. To think kissed you. Scared me shitless, feeling like that they’d finally made love, and to think that he about another bloke, ‘specially my partner. Sui- could concede it was love and not just sex with- cide to need someone that much, that’s what I out so much as a second’s pause. His finger used to tell myself. Not good to owe someone found and explored the quirk of Bodie’s left eye- that much either. Look at me and my mate brow, something he had wanted to do from the Keller… Like kissing you, Ray. Like all of it with moment he had seen him. It had been a long you…” time coming, the road there convoluted and £3£3£3 Doyle stirred himself enough to move, reluc- without signposts, a road that was far from fin- 135 tant though he was to break Bodie’s dreamy ished. But they could traverse it, he hoped. They £3£3£3 confessions. The condom was dropped into the would get there in the end, come hell or high lined wastepaper basket so wisely provided, then water. Oh, there would be problems, bushels of he got on with the rest of it. The towel was within them, there always were in a relationship where reach and he mopped their bellies, lulling Bodie feelings ran deep. But they could sort them out so that he could examine him without there better than they could have ten years ago. There being so much as a blink of anxiety. No trace of were, however, still so many questions to be damage, just a blushing pinkness that spoke asked, so many answers to be given, so many volumes. He dabbed the towel there, wiping off truths to be laid bare. But they could do it, he the residual seepage of spermicide, dumping the knew they could. They wouldn’t repeat the mis- towel in favour of the tactile pleasure of touch- takes of the past, he wouldn’t let them. Going ing Bodie. by what Bodie had had to say, Bodie wouldn’t “Should have a tattoo put on down there,” let them either. If Cowley’s devices had split Bodie was mumbling into the pillow, eyes at half- them up, then their own desires would hold mast. “Ray Doyle was here. D’you know,” a huge them together.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 GOLD FOR THE FERRYMAN Yes, this is a death scene, a vignette rather than a full-fledged story. It was inspired by the movie, Long Time Companion, and deals with the great and terrible plague of our times: AIDS. There is no requirement that you read it. SILENCE = DEATH M. FAE GLASGOW

THE RADDLED BODY ON THE BED MOCKED HIM. Where minds from them as the disease stole their was their pride now, with all their strength de- vitality. based to this, a hollow shell with racking breath And life. and putrid sores. Flesh melted down to skin, Still stroking that cool hand he held, Doyle cows to tallow, that’s all they were become. Noth- looked at the pain lying in the bed he had ing more than this bed, with its burden of agony, shared with Bodie. That was all Bodie was now, instead of all the love and laughter. Arguments, pain, and pain, and more pain. Screaming in even, had had a home in this bed, cosying up to the night as the agony of his body tormented the passion, snuggling down with the cuddles. him or the breaking of his mind filled him with They’d lived in this bed, gone through every- terrors unholy. He’d had to give up work to stay thing here. This was where they had almost home with Bodie, although nursing him

£3£3£3 come undone; this was where they had forged through the night had only been an excuse, 136 unbreakable links. there being more than enough helping hands, £3£3£3 Unbreakable. He could almost laugh at their from nursing visitors to home helps to friends. youth and folly. Almost, but not quite. His But he hated the risk of leaving, hated leaving knuckles were white on the bedstead, but still even for the minutes it took to go to the bath- they were not as white as the skin that yet clung room, or for the breathers that kept him sane to the living skeleton in that bed. He forced him- in the face of this horror. Hated leaving, be- self to straighten, to let go, coming instead to cause he had nightmares of his own. When little sit on the bed, as he had done a million times in he slept, his own terrors would haunt him: leav- health, and a million more in sickness. Singing ing, to tend to the needs of his own still healthy softly under his breath, for that seemed to soothe body, and coming back, to find that Bodie had some of the pain away, he picked up a bony died, alone. Alone. He’d never let Bodie die hand to hold in his own two strong ones. Such alone, never. It was the first promise Bodie had beauty, these hands had always been to him, made him make, that day coming out of the and even now, his memories erased some of the doctor’s office. The stunned, terrified silence ugliness that decay had brought. had been exploded by that dreadfully quiet, The man in the bed shifted, feeble move- small voice. ments to protest the torture, and suddenly, He’d never heard Bodie beg before. Nor since, there were tears again, where for weeks there for that matter. Just that once, that Ray wouldn’t had only been the dry eyes of coping. Another let him die alone. And he wouldn’t. He’d stayed movement on the bed, and a few more tears there, side by side, fighting this as they had spilled, to drip, one by one, on their hands as fought the enemies they had been able to see. they lay entwined. He felt the wetness of his They had refused to yield this battle: they had tears upon his own hand, and wondered if his never given in to terrorists before, they wouldn’t lover could feel them too. He had been so lost this time. But this was a war without weapons, to feeling, this last episode, gone adrift in the without battlelines, without rules. So blind they dementia that struck so many, stealing their had been, and there had been so little to pick

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3 SILENCE = DEATH £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 up and use to destroy before the disease could Rough, hand shaking, Doyle wiped his face destroy Bodie. clear of tears. He wouldn’t let Bodie’s last sight And every day the disease would mount its be one of tears. He clenched his jaw, pushing flanking action, trying to undermine them with himself and what he needed back and away and every new illness that struck Bodie and with down: Bodie would leave with love around him, every new day that dawned without Doyle so not tears. He forced a smile, his tear-dampened much as sneezing. It was as hard to watch your hand stroking tenderly down Bodie’s cheek, lover living, perhaps, as to watch him dying. That unable after all to rid himself of all the tears. “I was what they had to do, every single day. love you,” he whispered. Snatching at happiness, while watching the But it was too late. Bodie had gone again, other die. Even with Doyle’s body so healthy, although his body lived on, flailing weakly, fight- they both knew it was a matter of time before ing death with the mindless instinct to survive, HIV+ became ARC, as it had in Bodie that bright no matter the cost. There was the faint smell of summer’s day. And then it was only time before urine rising from him, another sign of the mind’s ARC became AIDS and AIDS became this lying absence from the body’s struggle. Automatically, on a bed, body lost in agony, mind lost in de- Doyle got to his feet to change Bodie as he had mentia. done for so long now… Then he stopped. He There was a movement on the bed again, but would have to let go of Bodie to change him, to this was not the mindless stirrings of the body. go and get the new package of pads. He stared Doyle leaned forward, very close, giving his down at the ashen face, and thought of Bodie, breath, his life, for Bodie to take in, to give even of Bodie being left. another second of living to this man he loved Of Bodie, dying. beyond himself. It had to come. If not today, then a week from “Ray?” Scratchy, unused, as sepulchral as now. And all that life offered his Bodie now was the body. the continuation of suffering and the humiliat- £3£3£3 “Yeh, I’m here. Promised, didn’t I? Wouldn’t ing loss of control. Doyle saw, bright lit with the 137 leave you, Bodie, never leave you, love. I’m neon glare of memory, the first time Bodie’s blad- £3£3£3 here…” der and bowel control had failed him. Remem- No more words, for there wasn’t the strength bered the bitter, helpless rage. Remembered the for them, but there was the brief blessing of re- fear, the gnawing, rat-like fear. spite, the mind coming back for a second or a He sat down again, fingers trembling on soft minute or an hour. Doyle hoarded it to him with hair that had grown longer and thinner with the single-minded greed of an infant, hugging it the passing of the illness. It had seemed crimi- to him, treasuring seeing Bodie back. He kept nal, almost, to cut off a part of Bodie when so close, watching him, face wet as he stared at much was already dying in him, so Ray had let Bodie. it grow, teasing Bodie when Bodie was well Bodie’s eyes were empty of all, save the one enough to get up and about, caressing it when thing Doyle didn’t want to see: the desperation Bodie was trapped in bed. He was caressing it for it to end. Doyle’d never had to actually face now, with all the tenderness in him, with all the it before, for Bodie even in illness had kept that love. from him, always turning away before his eyes Thinking about Bodie, about him living, and could betray them. But today, God help him, loving, he smiled, for all the goodness they’d had, Bodie was too weak to turn away, to hide the the high spots that had made the low points fear. Not of death, not now, when life was such something to be worked through, even if the ef- purgatory. Somewhere, in the long dark days fort had drawn blood. and the abyss of night, Bodie had made a truce He shouldn’t think of blood, not when he was with Death. He would go, if Death would take trying to remember how good their life had been. the pain away. And he was begging, too weak to Blood, inescapably, made him think of the dis- speak, begging Ray to give him to Death, to take ease, the one that was killing Bodie, the one away the pain that the medicines couldn’t de- that was lurking somewhere inside his own cells, feat. waiting, just waiting, to get him. He was too

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 SILENCE = DEATH £3£3£3 M. Fae Glasgow £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 exhausted to be angry now, although he knew nothing but love. He leaned down, kissed the the fury would come soon enough, when Bodie dry lips, his breath soughing gently into Bodie. was…gone, and he had to face the future alone. There was almost no response, the lungs too He wondered, idly, as he sat loving Bodie, if damaged and the heart too weakened to bring there might have been a cure found in time, if enough breath in or out to disturb the air around the governments had seen this for the threat it them. In stillness they sat, Bodie draped across was, and not just some disease that was rid- Ray’s lap, Ray’s arms around him, one hand ding the world of poofs and a load of wogs in stroking his face, endlessly, a continual caress Africa. Still, he didn’t know if it would have made to tell Bodie he was still loved, that he was still any difference if people had been warned, or if beautiful. he and Bodie were already infected by then. The They were in a silence all the more profound doctors simply kept on extending and extend- for the smallness of the noises that broke it: the ing the incubation period, until it seemed that rasp of Bodie’s breath, the whisper of Ray’s voice. there was no-one left who hadn’t been exposed. “Let go, Bodie, let go. Time to make the hurt- Even now, with Bodie in front of him, these ing stop, love. Let go, sunshine. I’m with you, thoughts stirred a bitterness in him which you’re safe, sunshine, you can let go now, I’ll threatened to choke him. But he swallowed it take care of you. I’ll be there, watching your down, determined not to let it destroy. back, mate…” He had a virus in him which was going to do that without any help from him. Bodie had gone He could cry now that it was over. Bodie very still, his breath rasping, his chest rising wasn’t there to see him, so he allowed himself with vile shallowness. Doyle wanted to rage, to the luxury of tears, of sobs that ripped his heart scream that Death couldn’t have them, that he apart, even while part of him was thankful that was keeping Bodie with him, that he was never for one of them, at least, the suffering was fin-

£3£3£3 going to let him go. ished. Now that he could hug Bodie without 138 But he remembered the expression in the eyes bringing more pain, Ray still caressed him, steal- £3£3£3 that had looked at him with such pleading hon- ing what he could before Death stole all the heat esty. from the man he held so closely to his heart, Slowly, with infinite care lest he should cause But there was no strength to be gained from any more pain where there had been more than holding Bodie, not now. Not now the flesh was enough, he got into bed with Bodie, sitting up beginning to chill and the spirit that had been against the pillows, cradling Bodie in his arms Bodie was gone, and he was left behind, bereft. like a child. He was so light, so heart-rendingly Eyes finally dry, he got up from the bed that light, this man who had always seemed so solid he had shared with Bodie for what had become and strong to him. Now, he was no heavier than a lifetime, though all too bitterly short a lifetime a feather, as light as a soul that the Egyptians it had been. Still moving with tender respect, said could enter Heaven. Doyle hoped there was he straightened Bodie out, giving him back the a Heaven, hoped that there was, at least, abso- dignity the disease had tried so hard to steal. It lute oblivion, where there would be no pain. was time to phone the undertakers, to let them Holding Bodie carefully, stroking his face, he know that the arrangements should go ahead began whispering to him, loving him in the only now. There were other people waiting to help, way left to him. waiting to be there for him the second he told “Let go, Bodie. Just let go. Stop fighting, love, them he needed them. and let go. It’s time to die, Bodie, time to make But it wouldn’t change anything, not with the hurting stop. Let it go…” Bodie lying there so still and dead. Without Blue eyes fluttered open, faintly, but there Bodie, when his own time came, there would be was no doubt: the dementia was gone for the no-one for him to beg not to leave him alone. moment and Bodie was with him. Doyle smiled For he already was. at him, refusing to cry, letting Bodie go with Alone.

£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3 …As a £3 Note £3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3£3