You and Me Could Write a Bad Romance
Title: You and Me Could Write a Bad Romance
Type: fandom
Pairing: Peter/Neal
Word Count: ~800
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexual themes
Author's Note: Originally posted here.
Summary: Peter's problem is that he just doesn't think ahead.
Peter's problem is that he just doesn't think ahead. He tries, he really, really does, but he's just never been that great at it. So when Neal seals his mouth against his throat and sucks so hard his skin feels like it's prickling, when Neal won't stop sucking and then starts biting, and it feels so amazing it makes Peter's toes curl, Peter just doesn't think about the hickeys that blossom on his skin by the next morning.
He leans toward his reflection in the bathroom's mirror, scrubbing at the marks on his neck. He feels like a sixteen year old trying to hide the fact that he enjoys heavy makeout sessions from his parents.
"You know, they get worse when you mess with them," Neal says, sidling into the bathroom. "They are bruises, after all."
"Would you shut up?" Peter snaps, frowning at his reflection. "Did you have to place them all so high? Christ."
"Hm." Neal comes up behind him, hooking his chin over Peter's shoulder and looking at the mirrored image of the marks. "Of course I did. Lovebites look marvelous with your skin tone."
Peter shrugs Neal off, huffing. He wants to say something like, 'I can't believe you,' but it's Neal and he can hardly expect anything but this sort of thing. Instead, he just turns and stomps out of the bathroom, muttering, "We should be working already."
Neal trails after him, sighing, "All work and no play makes Peter Burke a very, very dull boy."
"You must have an insane definition of 'dull,'" Peter gripes, throwing open the door of his office. Part of him wishes the door had hit Neal in his fat head, but Neal gracefully catches the door and slides into the room without so much as a hitch in his step. Peter drops into his chair and tries not to look like he's sulking too badly.
"I'd be glad to give you a distinction between my 'dull' and 'exciting.'" Neal's mouth curls into a smirk. "Complete with demonstration."
No one can make Peter's ears go red faster than Neal Caffrey.
Except maybe Diana, he finds as she strides into his office carrying a thick folder. Her eyes immediately go for the bruises, and she arches a brow. "Good morning, everyone. Here's the file you asked me to pull."
Diana sets it in front of him, then purposefully readjusts her collar, tugging it up and straightening it.
Neal's smile gets impossibly bigger.
Peter just wants to crawl in a hole and die. "Thanks, Diana. Can you give Neal and me a few minutes, please?"
She gives Neal a Look, then nods to Peter. "Sure. I was about to make a coffee run anyway. You want?"
"Always," Peter says gratefully.
"I'll have what Peter's having, Diana, if you wouldn't mind," Neal chimes in, leaning his hip against the desk.
Diana snorts, turning on the tips of her toes, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I mind."
Once the door clicks shut behind her, Neal leans toward Peter, his voice exaggeratedly low. "I think she thinks I'm a bad influence on you."
"Neal," Peter responds, looking dead in those bright blue eyes, "you are the worst influence I know."
Neal grins and leans forward, pressing a quick, chapped-lip kiss to Peter's mouth, then hovering just over his ear. His breath his hot against Peter's skin. "Maybe, but I didn't hear any complaints about that last night."
Neal dips his head, his teeth fastening just above Peter's collar for a flash of a second before letting go.
Peter is absolutely mortified, hissing, "The walls are windows, you idiot."
Neal slides off of Peter's desk, and waves a hand nonchalantly. "A little exhibitionism never hurt anyone."
'Wrong,' Peter wants to say, 'exhibitionism can cost him his job,' but it's Neal, and Peter knows it'll go in one ear and right back out the other regardless.
Peter releases a long suffering sigh instead, flipping open the file. "Back to the case. Alejandro is going to strike any day now, and we still have absolutely no solid evidence to link him to these damn forgeries."
Neal comes up behind him, leans over him, lining his chest up to Peter's back as he looks over the file and the copies of forged documents. From the corner of his eye, Peter can see Neal's face settle into calm concentration, and he knows that Neal is going to solve this case for him yet again.
Neal may be a show off, he may have an ego the size of a hot air balloon, and he may get his rocks off by annoying Peter to death, but Neal is smart and talented, regardless, and Peter can always count on him to come through in the end.
Neal smiles then, bright and boundless, and rests a hand over Peter's shoulder, squeezing, his fingertips landing right on at least two 'lovebites' on Peter's collarbone and shoulder. "I have an idea."
Neal always does.
Type: fandom
Pairing: Peter/Neal
Word Count: ~800
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexual themes
Author's Note: Originally posted here.
Summary: Peter's problem is that he just doesn't think ahead.
Peter's problem is that he just doesn't think ahead. He tries, he really, really does, but he's just never been that great at it. So when Neal seals his mouth against his throat and sucks so hard his skin feels like it's prickling, when Neal won't stop sucking and then starts biting, and it feels so amazing it makes Peter's toes curl, Peter just doesn't think about the hickeys that blossom on his skin by the next morning.
He leans toward his reflection in the bathroom's mirror, scrubbing at the marks on his neck. He feels like a sixteen year old trying to hide the fact that he enjoys heavy makeout sessions from his parents.
"You know, they get worse when you mess with them," Neal says, sidling into the bathroom. "They are bruises, after all."
"Would you shut up?" Peter snaps, frowning at his reflection. "Did you have to place them all so high? Christ."
"Hm." Neal comes up behind him, hooking his chin over Peter's shoulder and looking at the mirrored image of the marks. "Of course I did. Lovebites look marvelous with your skin tone."
Peter shrugs Neal off, huffing. He wants to say something like, 'I can't believe you,' but it's Neal and he can hardly expect anything but this sort of thing. Instead, he just turns and stomps out of the bathroom, muttering, "We should be working already."
Neal trails after him, sighing, "All work and no play makes Peter Burke a very, very dull boy."
"You must have an insane definition of 'dull,'" Peter gripes, throwing open the door of his office. Part of him wishes the door had hit Neal in his fat head, but Neal gracefully catches the door and slides into the room without so much as a hitch in his step. Peter drops into his chair and tries not to look like he's sulking too badly.
"I'd be glad to give you a distinction between my 'dull' and 'exciting.'" Neal's mouth curls into a smirk. "Complete with demonstration."
No one can make Peter's ears go red faster than Neal Caffrey.
Except maybe Diana, he finds as she strides into his office carrying a thick folder. Her eyes immediately go for the bruises, and she arches a brow. "Good morning, everyone. Here's the file you asked me to pull."
Diana sets it in front of him, then purposefully readjusts her collar, tugging it up and straightening it.
Neal's smile gets impossibly bigger.
Peter just wants to crawl in a hole and die. "Thanks, Diana. Can you give Neal and me a few minutes, please?"
She gives Neal a Look, then nods to Peter. "Sure. I was about to make a coffee run anyway. You want?"
"Always," Peter says gratefully.
"I'll have what Peter's having, Diana, if you wouldn't mind," Neal chimes in, leaning his hip against the desk.
Diana snorts, turning on the tips of her toes, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I mind."
Once the door clicks shut behind her, Neal leans toward Peter, his voice exaggeratedly low. "I think she thinks I'm a bad influence on you."
"Neal," Peter responds, looking dead in those bright blue eyes, "you are the worst influence I know."
Neal grins and leans forward, pressing a quick, chapped-lip kiss to Peter's mouth, then hovering just over his ear. His breath his hot against Peter's skin. "Maybe, but I didn't hear any complaints about that last night."
Neal dips his head, his teeth fastening just above Peter's collar for a flash of a second before letting go.
Peter is absolutely mortified, hissing, "The walls are windows, you idiot."
Neal slides off of Peter's desk, and waves a hand nonchalantly. "A little exhibitionism never hurt anyone."
'Wrong,' Peter wants to say, 'exhibitionism can cost him his job,' but it's Neal, and Peter knows it'll go in one ear and right back out the other regardless.
Peter releases a long suffering sigh instead, flipping open the file. "Back to the case. Alejandro is going to strike any day now, and we still have absolutely no solid evidence to link him to these damn forgeries."
Neal comes up behind him, leans over him, lining his chest up to Peter's back as he looks over the file and the copies of forged documents. From the corner of his eye, Peter can see Neal's face settle into calm concentration, and he knows that Neal is going to solve this case for him yet again.
Neal may be a show off, he may have an ego the size of a hot air balloon, and he may get his rocks off by annoying Peter to death, but Neal is smart and talented, regardless, and Peter can always count on him to come through in the end.
Neal smiles then, bright and boundless, and rests a hand over Peter's shoulder, squeezing, his fingertips landing right on at least two 'lovebites' on Peter's collarbone and shoulder. "I have an idea."
Neal always does.