The Professionals Drabbles: Cotton, Moon

[kat_lair]

Happy Birthday moth2fic!

So, the other week moth2fic turned to me and said “you can do Pros” with a decisive nod. I went “um” but frankly was too scared to argue. O HAI FANDOM IN WHICH I OCCASIONALLY READ BUT NEVER PLANNED TO WRITE AND HAVE SEEN A GRAND TOTAL OF TEN EPISODES OMG.

Er.

I make no guarantees. None.

 

The Professionals – Bodie/Doyle – PG-13

Cotton 

Bodie tears the jacket open and god, god, there’s nothing but raw flesh, slick and hot and wrong.

He’s distantly aware of someone yelling for an ambulance but help is still minutes (hours, years, might not come at all, never rely on others) away and his partner is dying on the cold cement floor. 

“Hold on, hold on.” Bodie rips off his shirt, presses it hard against the gaping wound, trying to quench the bleeding.

Doyle’s eyes are wide and glassy, but he nods, cheek brushing the back of Bodie’s hand. Underneath it, the red stain is spreading too fast.

 

The Professionals – Bodie/Doyle – PG

Moon

“You owe me. Big time.” Bodie sounds pissy, twitching restlessly on the front seat.

Doyle grins, bright and unrepentant. “Like you had anything better to do tonight.” 

“I could’ve had a date with a hot bird.”

“Yeah. But you didn’t.” 

Bodie sighs, but doesn’t deny it. “You’re making me breakfast.”

Doyle’s smile softens and he glances at his watch. Four more hours before they can kiss this useless stake-out goodbye. “Deal,” he says. 

Outside the car window, the street is empty, striped with moonlight and shifting shadows. It’s a routine assignment, boring but not too bad.

He’s got good company.