fic: linger here
AND THEN, THERE WAS PORN.
Title: linger here
Author: hoosierbitch
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Neal/Peter
Notes: This one's for elrhiarhodan. Not just because she got me THE BEST GIFT EVER - a signed photo of Tim DeKay, where he WISHED ME LUCK IN GRAD SCHOOL, OMGOMGOMG, but because she's an amazing, loving, supportive friend. Someone I am truly grateful to know. Her prompt for me was "navel" (because she got to see Bomer's, the lucky lady!). I hope you like it, bb!
Summary: The thing that surprised Neal the most was the way that Peter lingered.
*
The thing that surprised Neal the most was the way that Peter lingered. The way he put his arm over Neal’s shoulders at the beginning of a movie and left it there until the end, absentmindedly massaging the back of his neck the entire time. The way his touches were so casual, uncalculated, almost careless in their frequency - like Peter didn’t even notice what he was doing.
He could be focused when he wanted to be. It seemed like Neal taking off his tie was the equivalent of waving a red flag at a bull - all systems go. Peter lingered in bed, too, though. Found a new favorite part of Neal’s body every night that they spent together - the side of his neck, his throat, his collarbones - and he'd just stay there. He’d spent a weekend playing with Neal’s bellybutton. Not a spot Neal had ever thought of as an erogenous zone before - but Peter was teaching him all sorts of things. Peter was teaching him how to relax, how to sleep in, and how to lose his mind in a dozen different ways.
He’d started at Neal’s collarbones. Bitten his way between Neal’s pecs and then straight down - but before he’d gotten to Neal’s cock, hard and ready for Peter’s mouth, his lips, his hand, anything - he’d stopped. Licked at Neal’s bellybutton like a lollipop. “I think the sweet spot’s a bit further down,” Neal whispered. He could actually feel Peter smirk, he was pressed so close.
“Just enjoy the ride,” Peter admonished him. And then he fucked Neal’s bellybutton with his tongue. Neal gasped and then groaned and then tried to turn over, to twist out of Peter’s grasp, it tickled and it was uncomfortable and, Jesus, it felt so good.
“The fuck are you doing?” he gasped as Peter’s grip around his hips tightened and he started to suck on Neal’s belly, leaving hickeys in a circle around his bellybutton before pressing back in. Pressing down and then to the sides, like he was trying to stretch Neal’s flesh, like he was rimming his - oh, fuck, Peter was biting the edges of his bellybutton and then kissing it - “Peter!”
Peter just laughed, and then moved his right hand from Neal’s hip up to his stomach. Sat up and fucked Neal’s bellybutton with two fingers. Neal tried to tighten his stomach muscles, protect himself from the sensation - but his skin was slick with Peter’s spit, and Peter was relentless. “I can fuck you,” Peter said, voice like steel, sitting up so that he could look down at Neal, helplessly writhing on his bed. “In so many different ways.”
He bent down and brushed Neal’s hair out of the way with his left hand and then nibbled at Neal’s earlobe. Neal gave up and just whined, babbled something about god or Jesus or eternal love or maybe a death threat or two - Peter licked his way into Neal’s ear, his breath hot and wet, his fingers still fucking Neal’s bellybutton like he was searching for something.
Neal felt like he was being invaded, tortured, teased and - and - Peter’s right hand slid down between Neal’s legs and then he just felt like he was being fucked. Just like Peter said. Fucked in any way Peter wanted, every part of him at Peter’s mercy, every part of him being taught new ways to surrender.
Neal’s hole was already slick with lube and Peter’s fingers spread him easily. “Just like this,” Peter told him. “Just like this.”
Neal mewled and spread his legs and tried to catch his breath.
Peter didn’t kiss him until he came. Until he pressed Neal’s prostate like he was trying to bruise it and didn’t stop, until Neal was screaming his name, until his whole body tensed and he let go. Then, Peter kissed him, and laughed softly into the sweaty skin of Neal’s shoulder, and said we’ll have to do this again tomorrow.
Or - or maybe, Neal realized the next morning, maybe the thing that surprised him the most wasn’t that at all. Wasn’t how Peter touched him, long and lingering, hot and hard, over and over again - maybe the thing that surprised him the most was how he touched Peter.
Neal ran his hand through Peter’s hair when he was asleep and wouldn’t notice. Put his hand on Peter’s knee when they sat next to each other at the table, kissed the corner of his mouth when they said goodbye, brushed his lips against the back of his neck when they passed in the narrow kitchen, tickled the inside of his forearms when he was feeling playful. Touched him in a thousand different ways and was discovering new ones every day.
Peter touched Neal because he wanted to, because it was habitual, the byproduct of a long and loving marriage, a way to show his affection.
Neal touched Peter because the most surprising thing, when they woke up tangled together or passed in the kitchen or sat at the same table, was that Peter was there at all. And every day in a thousand different ways he reminded himself Peter wants me. And every day, he was a little less surprised.
*
Comments are loved!
Title: linger here
Author: hoosierbitch
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Neal/Peter
Notes: This one's for elrhiarhodan. Not just because she got me THE BEST GIFT EVER - a signed photo of Tim DeKay, where he WISHED ME LUCK IN GRAD SCHOOL, OMGOMGOMG, but because she's an amazing, loving, supportive friend. Someone I am truly grateful to know. Her prompt for me was "navel" (because she got to see Bomer's, the lucky lady!). I hope you like it, bb!
Summary: The thing that surprised Neal the most was the way that Peter lingered.
*
The thing that surprised Neal the most was the way that Peter lingered. The way he put his arm over Neal’s shoulders at the beginning of a movie and left it there until the end, absentmindedly massaging the back of his neck the entire time. The way his touches were so casual, uncalculated, almost careless in their frequency - like Peter didn’t even notice what he was doing.
He could be focused when he wanted to be. It seemed like Neal taking off his tie was the equivalent of waving a red flag at a bull - all systems go. Peter lingered in bed, too, though. Found a new favorite part of Neal’s body every night that they spent together - the side of his neck, his throat, his collarbones - and he'd just stay there. He’d spent a weekend playing with Neal’s bellybutton. Not a spot Neal had ever thought of as an erogenous zone before - but Peter was teaching him all sorts of things. Peter was teaching him how to relax, how to sleep in, and how to lose his mind in a dozen different ways.
He’d started at Neal’s collarbones. Bitten his way between Neal’s pecs and then straight down - but before he’d gotten to Neal’s cock, hard and ready for Peter’s mouth, his lips, his hand, anything - he’d stopped. Licked at Neal’s bellybutton like a lollipop. “I think the sweet spot’s a bit further down,” Neal whispered. He could actually feel Peter smirk, he was pressed so close.
“Just enjoy the ride,” Peter admonished him. And then he fucked Neal’s bellybutton with his tongue. Neal gasped and then groaned and then tried to turn over, to twist out of Peter’s grasp, it tickled and it was uncomfortable and, Jesus, it felt so good.
“The fuck are you doing?” he gasped as Peter’s grip around his hips tightened and he started to suck on Neal’s belly, leaving hickeys in a circle around his bellybutton before pressing back in. Pressing down and then to the sides, like he was trying to stretch Neal’s flesh, like he was rimming his - oh, fuck, Peter was biting the edges of his bellybutton and then kissing it - “Peter!”
Peter just laughed, and then moved his right hand from Neal’s hip up to his stomach. Sat up and fucked Neal’s bellybutton with two fingers. Neal tried to tighten his stomach muscles, protect himself from the sensation - but his skin was slick with Peter’s spit, and Peter was relentless. “I can fuck you,” Peter said, voice like steel, sitting up so that he could look down at Neal, helplessly writhing on his bed. “In so many different ways.”
He bent down and brushed Neal’s hair out of the way with his left hand and then nibbled at Neal’s earlobe. Neal gave up and just whined, babbled something about god or Jesus or eternal love or maybe a death threat or two - Peter licked his way into Neal’s ear, his breath hot and wet, his fingers still fucking Neal’s bellybutton like he was searching for something.
Neal felt like he was being invaded, tortured, teased and - and - Peter’s right hand slid down between Neal’s legs and then he just felt like he was being fucked. Just like Peter said. Fucked in any way Peter wanted, every part of him at Peter’s mercy, every part of him being taught new ways to surrender.
Neal’s hole was already slick with lube and Peter’s fingers spread him easily. “Just like this,” Peter told him. “Just like this.”
Neal mewled and spread his legs and tried to catch his breath.
Peter didn’t kiss him until he came. Until he pressed Neal’s prostate like he was trying to bruise it and didn’t stop, until Neal was screaming his name, until his whole body tensed and he let go. Then, Peter kissed him, and laughed softly into the sweaty skin of Neal’s shoulder, and said we’ll have to do this again tomorrow.
Or - or maybe, Neal realized the next morning, maybe the thing that surprised him the most wasn’t that at all. Wasn’t how Peter touched him, long and lingering, hot and hard, over and over again - maybe the thing that surprised him the most was how he touched Peter.
Neal ran his hand through Peter’s hair when he was asleep and wouldn’t notice. Put his hand on Peter’s knee when they sat next to each other at the table, kissed the corner of his mouth when they said goodbye, brushed his lips against the back of his neck when they passed in the narrow kitchen, tickled the inside of his forearms when he was feeling playful. Touched him in a thousand different ways and was discovering new ones every day.
Peter touched Neal because he wanted to, because it was habitual, the byproduct of a long and loving marriage, a way to show his affection.
Neal touched Peter because the most surprising thing, when they woke up tangled together or passed in the kitchen or sat at the same table, was that Peter was there at all. And every day in a thousand different ways he reminded himself Peter wants me. And every day, he was a little less surprised.
*
Comments are loved!