Bodie weekend - 2 vignettes
May. 1st, 2009 06:11 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ci5hqHurrah for a Bodie/LC weekend! All the lovely posts so far have had me itching to contribute something. Unfortunately, life's being an arse right now and keeping me from writing, so here're two vignettes instead, of Bodie through the eyes of two others.
This is a re-posting. The vignettes were originally written for a smaller/different set of people, so my apologies if you've read them before.
1. Of Tea (Bodie/Murphy)
Sometime after midnight they settle together at Bodie’s flat for a cup of tea.
It is a frightfully civilised business, a far cry from the CI5-rowdiness of the pub just twenty-five minutes ago: two men sitting side by side on the under-stuffed sofa, cheeks flushed red with alcohol and polite conversation on their tongues. When Bodie hands him his cup of tea he is quick to offer his thanks, fingers brushing a briefly-exposed wrist, an accidental graze, carefully now, carefully.
“Where’s Doyle?” he asks, because he thinks it is only the right thing to say. The first sip of tea is astringent, a welcome scalding through his pint-fuelled haze, and he idly notes that the rim of his cup is chipped, its blue glaze cracked.
“Doyle pulled.” This is said over the silver flashing of a teaspoon turning clockwise once, twice, thrice. “Some buggers have all the luck, eh?”
“Thought I saw that barmaid take a fancy to you, mate.”
“Was tired. ’s been a long day, that's all. The Cow breathing down your neck, sure to wear even the strongest man out.”
“Ah.”
There isn’t any milk to be had in Bodie’s flat, he had earlier learnt as Bodie apologised over the clink and clatter of tea things being set on the scarred coffee table, so he makes do with three sugars instead. Watching the white lumps slowly dissolve in the steaming brown liquid proves to be peculiarly satisfying.
“Look, Murph, sorry mate, I – ”
“I know.”
“I just – ”
“’s alright, Bodie. I don’t mind. Really.”
“Ta.”
(When it comes, it is more a brief bark than a laugh.)
Bodie’s shoulders are warm beneath his arm, not quite as hot as the cup of tea he gently places aside but infinitely more comforting. The shell of Bodie’s ear is pink, a souvenir of their evening’s excesses, and it slowly turns red beneath the tracing tip of a finger. He discovers that night that it tastes an awful lot like licking a rime of sugar off the rim of a tea cup (blue-glazed, chipped).
2. Of a Swiss Roll (Bodie/Doyle)
In the afternoon they march about the kitchen in clouds of flour and sugar and beaten egg, white and yellow and brown for the chocolate too. Bodie had suggested the night before in a fit of 3am madness that they try their hand at making Swiss rolls, Saw a recipe the other day, ’s easy mate, swear it is; Doyle had agreed in what could only have been a 3:01 drunken stupor.
(But they had been marking Bodie’s birthday and the start of three days of leave in the best way they knew, with their legs tangled on the sofa and a-bottle-and-a-half of whisky between them. Bodie’s fingers had been warm on his thigh.)
At two o’clock the oven yawns its opinion of their latest culinary endeavour, and they quell in the face of a sponge cake which is charred around the edges and which refuses to rise: two soldiers defeated by batter over-baked and crumbling. They could try to make another, should try to make another, he thinks, and says as much. When Bodie looks up from the wire cooling rack his grin is boyishly broad, and Doyle feels ridiculously pleased for having offered, even though his partner looks a little naff with crumbs in his hair.
There is a dab of batter on his chin, he discovers five minutes later, or perhaps it is butter cream, rubbed on by the back of a forgetful hand a while before. Bodie’s tongue is a pink curl as he licks it off: wet and rasping and mildly ticklish. Neither of them says anything when Doyle lets his hand drift downwards to cup the warm fingers cupping his thigh.
Title: Of Tea and a Swiss Roll
Author: Erushi
Proslib/Circuit Archive: Yes, please.
Pairing and/or characters: Bodie/Murphy, Bodie/Doyle
Rating: PG13-ish
Word count: 628
Summary: Tworather pretentious vignettes. It's up to you whether you wish to read them separately or together.
This is a re-posting. The vignettes were originally written for a smaller/different set of people, so my apologies if you've read them before.
1. Of Tea (Bodie/Murphy)
Sometime after midnight they settle together at Bodie’s flat for a cup of tea.
It is a frightfully civilised business, a far cry from the CI5-rowdiness of the pub just twenty-five minutes ago: two men sitting side by side on the under-stuffed sofa, cheeks flushed red with alcohol and polite conversation on their tongues. When Bodie hands him his cup of tea he is quick to offer his thanks, fingers brushing a briefly-exposed wrist, an accidental graze, carefully now, carefully.
“Where’s Doyle?” he asks, because he thinks it is only the right thing to say. The first sip of tea is astringent, a welcome scalding through his pint-fuelled haze, and he idly notes that the rim of his cup is chipped, its blue glaze cracked.
“Doyle pulled.” This is said over the silver flashing of a teaspoon turning clockwise once, twice, thrice. “Some buggers have all the luck, eh?”
“Thought I saw that barmaid take a fancy to you, mate.”
“Was tired. ’s been a long day, that's all. The Cow breathing down your neck, sure to wear even the strongest man out.”
“Ah.”
There isn’t any milk to be had in Bodie’s flat, he had earlier learnt as Bodie apologised over the clink and clatter of tea things being set on the scarred coffee table, so he makes do with three sugars instead. Watching the white lumps slowly dissolve in the steaming brown liquid proves to be peculiarly satisfying.
“Look, Murph, sorry mate, I – ”
“I know.”
“I just – ”
“’s alright, Bodie. I don’t mind. Really.”
“Ta.”
(When it comes, it is more a brief bark than a laugh.)
Bodie’s shoulders are warm beneath his arm, not quite as hot as the cup of tea he gently places aside but infinitely more comforting. The shell of Bodie’s ear is pink, a souvenir of their evening’s excesses, and it slowly turns red beneath the tracing tip of a finger. He discovers that night that it tastes an awful lot like licking a rime of sugar off the rim of a tea cup (blue-glazed, chipped).
2. Of a Swiss Roll (Bodie/Doyle)
In the afternoon they march about the kitchen in clouds of flour and sugar and beaten egg, white and yellow and brown for the chocolate too. Bodie had suggested the night before in a fit of 3am madness that they try their hand at making Swiss rolls, Saw a recipe the other day, ’s easy mate, swear it is; Doyle had agreed in what could only have been a 3:01 drunken stupor.
(But they had been marking Bodie’s birthday and the start of three days of leave in the best way they knew, with their legs tangled on the sofa and a-bottle-and-a-half of whisky between them. Bodie’s fingers had been warm on his thigh.)
At two o’clock the oven yawns its opinion of their latest culinary endeavour, and they quell in the face of a sponge cake which is charred around the edges and which refuses to rise: two soldiers defeated by batter over-baked and crumbling. They could try to make another, should try to make another, he thinks, and says as much. When Bodie looks up from the wire cooling rack his grin is boyishly broad, and Doyle feels ridiculously pleased for having offered, even though his partner looks a little naff with crumbs in his hair.
There is a dab of batter on his chin, he discovers five minutes later, or perhaps it is butter cream, rubbed on by the back of a forgetful hand a while before. Bodie’s tongue is a pink curl as he licks it off: wet and rasping and mildly ticklish. Neither of them says anything when Doyle lets his hand drift downwards to cup the warm fingers cupping his thigh.
Title: Of Tea and a Swiss Roll
Author: Erushi
Proslib/Circuit Archive: Yes, please.
Pairing and/or characters: Bodie/Murphy, Bodie/Doyle
Rating: PG13-ish
Word count: 628
Summary: Two
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Date: 2009-05-01 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-01 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-01 06:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-01 06:45 pm (UTC)Hehe! I can imagine that picture exactly! :-)
That was fun!
Thank you so much for sharing although 'life's being an arse right now'!!!
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Date: 2009-05-06 06:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-02 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 06:56 am (UTC)