przed

Title: Completely Undone, Part 2
Author: P.R. Zed
Fandom: Pros
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Note: A continuation of Completely Undone, which several of you seemed to think I cut off a tad early. This time I give you the smut, and nothing but the smut. A big thanks to

ancastar. The first part was a birthday pressie for her; she was kind enough to beta the second.

He unbuckles, pulls, and my belt goes clattering to the floor. Neither of us pays a blind bit of notice to the bloody thing. I'm too busy staring at his mouth, pursed in that perfect pout he gets when he's concentrating hard. And him, he's too busy staring at my trousers.

"What took you so long?" I say, my voice husky and hoarse. I take a deep breath, no longer able to feign a cool that burned away hours ago.

"You fucker," he says, and I know for a certainty how close he is to losing control by how strong the Scouse is in those three short syllables.

"You first," I say, knowing that it's exactly what I want, what Bodie needs. And Bodie knows it too. I see it in his eyes, taking in my body with a relentless appetite, even as he seems frozen in place.

But I'm not frozen. I'm burning up, and there's no way I want to drench this flame. I want to nurse it, fan it, feed it till we both blaze and blister.

I arch off the wall, pushing myself against him, the feel of his body making my temperature rise even further. I wrap myself around him, breathe in his scent, feel his heart pounding in his chest, hear his breath catch in his throat.

I tilt my head and let my lips touch his, and my heat melts his ice at last. His mouth opens, tastes me, devours me. Time shudders and stops as he surrounds me. I flame at his touch, wanting more.

Reluctantly, I push away from him.

"Lose the fucking jacket," I order. He does, pulling off his poloneck as well, before ripping off my shirt. I'll curse him later, when I have to sew the buttons back on, but for now I'm ready to tear it myself.

We come together again, and now it's even better, the feel of skin on skin raising us both higher and higher, shared heat keeping us warm even in the chill of the flat.

He nips at my neck, my shoulder, and I growl, what little control I have slipping further away from me, stealing over the horizon without a backward glance. I struggle with his belt and flies, my need making my fingers clumsy. He moans, impatient, pushing his trousers down and kicking them away. I do the same with mine, and there we are, naked, hard and breathless.

And still I need more.

He reaches out, starts to pull me toward him, but I struggle in his grasp. I push him back and turn, chest and face hot against the cool of the wall, offering him what I know he wants to take. Wants to take, but doesn't, leaving me here, waiting, anticipating.

I twist my head, and see him behind me, face flushed, lips parted, cock hard, and panting for it, but wavering. Bastard. His hesitation's no good to me.

I smile, lips peeling back from my teeth in an expression that has as much to do with hunger as humour. "Go on," I say, remembering a different day. "Stick it in." A day when we might have both died, but didn't. "Now."

He startles, as if I've pulled him back from a cliff, and then the hesitation is gone. He snarls, grabs for me and thrusts. There's no subtlety in the action, no mercy, nothing but brute force and power. Exactly what I want.

We both gasp.

I thought I was burning before, but now my body's an inferno. The cool of the wall is the only thing keeping me from erupting in flame. My hands ball up in fists as he digs those strong fingers into the flesh of my hips. I push back against his thrusts, increasing his pace, driving us both faster and higher and hotter.

I'm on the edge; I don't think it can get much better. Then he reaches one hand around to grab my cock and it does. My neck arches back until it feels like it'll break. His other hand grabs a handful of my hair and then his lips and teeth fasten on my throat. He thrusts one more time and my balls pulse.

"Christ," I say, or maybe he does. Hard to say where I end and he begins. We're both burning, both molten. One final pulse and I explode, coming all over his fist as he squeezes tighter.

Then I'm done, and he's only starting. Both his arms go around my chest, supporting my trembling legs as he pounds into my arse. But even he can't last forever. I think I feel the pulsing of his cock before he does, and finally he's coming, biting my shoulder hard enough to hurt, filling me with his seed.

He pulls out, and leans against me, his breath puffing against my neck. I turn in his grasp, and we stand there, holding each other up as our muscles shiver and our breathing slows.

"You ought to be declared illegal," he says, growling the words in my ear.

"Not illegal," I say, smiling. "Just extremely good."

"You think a lot of yourself."

"I think more of you." I'm not smiling now. I'm serious, and so is he.

"It's mutual, sunshine."

It's the closest we'll ever come to admissions of undying love or some other old bollocks, but it's all I need.