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crack_van2008-12-10 10:13 am
callistosh65.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2008-12-10 10:13 am
Entry tags:
All These Years by Angelfish (NC-17)
Fandom: PROS (THE PROFESSIONALS)
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Length: 230k
Author on LJ: unknown
Author Website: Angelfish at The Circuit Archive
Why this must be read: Because no one can scour the heart quite like her. In ‘All These Years’, Doyle’s buried past is gradually brought to the surface by the consequences of a seemingly routine op and an encounter with his artist sister. As she comes into both their lives, Doyle and Bodie have adjustments to make..
Those are simply the bare bones around which this skilled storyteller draws you in and has you trusting her, even as she has you holding your breath at what she’s doing to Bodie and Doyle’s relationship. She nails emotions and character observations with audacious word choices and a kind of breathless free-flowing style, which I have no idea how to describe adequately but which I adore beyond reason. This excerpt is from the first sexual encounter between Bodie and Doyle in the story and is a great example of the way she writes. And if it all sounds like an emasculated Doyle story, it isn’t. She’s one of the few that can make him this vulnerable without doing that.
******
"If I ask what's going on in there, would you tell me?"
Doyle considered. He looked all the way down the hallways and endless roads of the past, and really considered explaining to Bodie what it was that held back his mornings, shadowed noon and brought on the night like a hungry wolf to devour him. His no, when it came, was therefore gentle and sorry.
"Does that mean not now, or not ever?"
"I – I don't know."
"But there is something."
"Yes. Yes, there is."
Bodie sat back on the sofa and drew Doyle with him. It wasn't complicated, and he met with no resistance, just a relieved surrender of tension as the too-thin frame subsided against him. "Come here," he murmured, unnecessarily; Doyle was hungrily reaching for contact, for the surcease from pain and cold that his partner's warm bulk delivered. He closed his eyes on Bodie's shoulder, in the clean-smelling dark of his own wet hair, and slipped an arm tight around his ribs. "Oh, Christ."
"It's alright. You'll be alright."
"When you say that, I almost believe it." A large hand descended lightly on the back of his skull, protective, caressing. "You – you don't mind me here, like this?"
Bodie smiled. He could see the lamplit room before him, the plants and the books on their shelves against the far wall. But it was as if, in some specialised way, he had gone blind, without distress or sense of loss. The sensory input he required was under his hands, pressed to his thigh, his chest. He said, "I don't mind at all." A few minutes passed, silent but charged, and he extended the thought, blindly, lost to all consequence or thought of tomorrow. "I don't think I mind... anything you do, Ray." Silence again: Doyle had stopped breathing, and when his vision sparked red Bodie realised he had, too. Deliberately he restored the pattern, and when his voice would be quite steady, said, "Do whatever you want. It's okay. There's no price tag, I promise. Whatever you want."
******
All These Years by Angelfish
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Length: 230k
Author on LJ: unknown
Author Website: Angelfish at The Circuit Archive
Why this must be read: Because no one can scour the heart quite like her. In ‘All These Years’, Doyle’s buried past is gradually brought to the surface by the consequences of a seemingly routine op and an encounter with his artist sister. As she comes into both their lives, Doyle and Bodie have adjustments to make..
Those are simply the bare bones around which this skilled storyteller draws you in and has you trusting her, even as she has you holding your breath at what she’s doing to Bodie and Doyle’s relationship. She nails emotions and character observations with audacious word choices and a kind of breathless free-flowing style, which I have no idea how to describe adequately but which I adore beyond reason. This excerpt is from the first sexual encounter between Bodie and Doyle in the story and is a great example of the way she writes. And if it all sounds like an emasculated Doyle story, it isn’t. She’s one of the few that can make him this vulnerable without doing that.
******
"If I ask what's going on in there, would you tell me?"
Doyle considered. He looked all the way down the hallways and endless roads of the past, and really considered explaining to Bodie what it was that held back his mornings, shadowed noon and brought on the night like a hungry wolf to devour him. His no, when it came, was therefore gentle and sorry.
"Does that mean not now, or not ever?"
"I – I don't know."
"But there is something."
"Yes. Yes, there is."
Bodie sat back on the sofa and drew Doyle with him. It wasn't complicated, and he met with no resistance, just a relieved surrender of tension as the too-thin frame subsided against him. "Come here," he murmured, unnecessarily; Doyle was hungrily reaching for contact, for the surcease from pain and cold that his partner's warm bulk delivered. He closed his eyes on Bodie's shoulder, in the clean-smelling dark of his own wet hair, and slipped an arm tight around his ribs. "Oh, Christ."
"It's alright. You'll be alright."
"When you say that, I almost believe it." A large hand descended lightly on the back of his skull, protective, caressing. "You – you don't mind me here, like this?"
Bodie smiled. He could see the lamplit room before him, the plants and the books on their shelves against the far wall. But it was as if, in some specialised way, he had gone blind, without distress or sense of loss. The sensory input he required was under his hands, pressed to his thigh, his chest. He said, "I don't mind at all." A few minutes passed, silent but charged, and he extended the thought, blindly, lost to all consequence or thought of tomorrow. "I don't think I mind... anything you do, Ray." Silence again: Doyle had stopped breathing, and when his vision sparked red Bodie realised he had, too. Deliberately he restored the pattern, and when his voice would be quite steady, said, "Do whatever you want. It's okay. There's no price tag, I promise. Whatever you want."
******
All These Years by Angelfish
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How true! Her writing is both exquisite and powerful... another great rec, thank you!
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This was the story that lured me, all innocent and rosy and virginal, into Prosfic ::waves at
Thanks for all the great recs, in case I haven't said so - you're doing a fab job luv.
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My favourite sentence is this one:
...and the dream flapped brilliant butterfly-wings around him, then because he was on his sanity's knife-edge and could not afford it, folded itself to a two-dimensional greyness, flipped to a single plane and disappeared.
Just beautiful.
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