Fic Rec: Boxing Day by The Hag

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Title: Boxing Day
Author: The Hag
Link to story: http://hatstand.slashcity.net/hag/boxing.html and it's at the Circuit too.
Genre: Slash
Summary: I know byslantedlight was after lesser known authors, but I came across this again today and reread it for the umpteenth time, realising yet again how brilliant it is. It's as the title says, Boxing Day, and Bodie's in a garage pulling a dusty tarpaulin off a car boot because Doyle wants to 'know things'..



I love this fic, it may be a short tale but it's beautifully told and expertly set up for us. Just in the opening scene we learn that Bodie spent the night with Doyle, that he's in one of his bolt-holes (the undisturbed hair across the door), that he's hunting for smth he hasn't thought about or looked for in a long time (he sneezes from the dust), and that somehow Doyle has set this all in motion..

Doyle was wanting to know things. Perilous stuff, information. It gave people an edge on you. There were things Cowley knew, things old acquaintances knew, and things only he knew. There was the thing Doyle had whispered last night when he had hovered on the very brink of sleep, his head pillowed on Doyle's wide shoulder, feeling oddly safe in that bony embrace. Doyle had brought a deadly weapon into play, and he had to answer the challenge before he lost his nerve.

The answer to this challenge turns out to be so bittersweet, touching, and achingly Bodie-like, that it catches in your chest and lingers long after you finish reading.

But this being the Hag, of course, we have absolutely no chance of drowning in sentiment..

He sighed. Into Doyle's hands he would surrender his heart. They might tear each other to pieces, pair of pigheaded alpha males that they were, but risk was in their blood, and if they could make it work--if--

"All right, pack it in," he said aloud to the nascent heat in his crotch. "Down, boy."

Couldn't sit here chatting to his cock all day.

And domestic kink that I have, I do so love this moment when Bodie unexpectedly returns to Doyle's..

"Thought you..."

Oh, shut it! he ordered himself savagely. Don't start whining at him. He's here. That indisputable fact was a glimmer of warmth melting the ache in his chest. He's here. He loosened his grip on the residual anger and let it slide away. He's here. "There's some bacon if you fancy cooking it."

"Yeah?" Bodie moved behind him. Doyle didn't turn, tense but trusting. He felt chilled fingers brush his hair to the side and deliberately relaxed, bending his head slightly as warm lips grazed the back of his neck. Then Bodie was back at the counter, the ritual of tea-making resumed. "Eggs, too? Where's the frying pan?"

See? Emotion and eggs. How perfectly them.