Title: Flush - Chuck/White Collar, Bryce/Neal, PG-13
Title: Flush
Author: nevcolleil
Fandom(s): White Collar/Chuck
Pairing: Neal Caffrey/Bryce Larkin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500
Summary: For the ’Games’ prompt at slashthedrabble. This isn’t strip poker.
AO3
He thinks he’s diffused a potentially dangerous situation - but somehow, somewhere… something goes wrong.
Neal glares at the man sitting across from him at their rickety motel room table.
Bryce blinks at him, innocently. “What?”
“This isn’t strip poker,” Neal says, struggling to keep his voice even.
Bryce grins. “It’s hot in here.”
“We’re in Peru.”
“Exactly. This Peruvian heat… it’ll get to you. You should take yours off, too. You’d be more comfortable.”
Neal isn’t taking his shirt off, no matter how it sticks to his skin, damp with sweat. He’s got his sleeves rolled up, and the fan on. They can’t open many windows - they’re in this room to hide, after all.
“Aren’t you spies supposed to be trained to withstand extreme climates, things like that?”
Bryce smirks and tips back in his chair. “I could tell you about my training, Caffrey… but then I’d have to kill you.”
This joke, initially, intimidated Neal quite a bit. Now the words do little more than irritate him, despite the fact that he’s relatively certain Bryce isn’t always joking when he says them.
“Why does it bother you?” Bryce asks, sounding sincerely curious. This, too, is unimpressive. Neal himself could sincerely introduce himself as the Costa Gravan ambassador to Lima if he so chose; sincerity is easily forged by those with their skill set. “I’ve got nothing you don’t got,” Bryce says, still smirking.
That… isn’t entirely true. Neal takes pride in his physique. He is no less trim and fit than Bryce, but there is something different in Bryce’s musculature. Something that doesn’t say ’yoga’ so much as ’martial arts’. And Bryce’s scars-
Well, Bryce has scars. Neal doesn’t, so he can’t be sure, but he’s pretty sure the one on Bryce’s shoulder is from a gunshot wound. The one that wraps around his left side could be from a knife.
The scars shouldn’t draw Neal’s eyes the way they do, irresistibly. And not just because it’s like looking into a mirror at a darker, different Neal.
But because Neal watches a drop of sweat trace a path down from Bryce’s collarbone, past scar tissue… past Bryce’s right nipple…
And Neal, oddly - insanely - He feels like-
“True.” Neal forces his attention back on the game. He lays down his hand. “I’ve got two pair.”
Bryce’s smirk freezes. He eyes Neal’s cards, then his own. Then he laughs.
He tosses his hand face-down on the table. “So you do.”
It occurs to Neal that, with a small army of bad guys still running around the country looking for them, he shouldn’t feel as good about beating Bryce as he does.
Especially when he reaches for the toothpicks they’re using as chips and Bryce says, “Does this mean I can take off my pants now?”
Neal looks at him sharply.
“Kidding!”
[ end. ]
This is a sequel to Staying Power for everyone who enjoyed it ♥
Author: nevcolleil
Fandom(s): White Collar/Chuck
Pairing: Neal Caffrey/Bryce Larkin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500
Summary: For the ’Games’ prompt at slashthedrabble. This isn’t strip poker.
AO3
He thinks he’s diffused a potentially dangerous situation - but somehow, somewhere… something goes wrong.
Neal glares at the man sitting across from him at their rickety motel room table.
Bryce blinks at him, innocently. “What?”
“This isn’t strip poker,” Neal says, struggling to keep his voice even.
Bryce grins. “It’s hot in here.”
“We’re in Peru.”
“Exactly. This Peruvian heat… it’ll get to you. You should take yours off, too. You’d be more comfortable.”
Neal isn’t taking his shirt off, no matter how it sticks to his skin, damp with sweat. He’s got his sleeves rolled up, and the fan on. They can’t open many windows - they’re in this room to hide, after all.
“Aren’t you spies supposed to be trained to withstand extreme climates, things like that?”
Bryce smirks and tips back in his chair. “I could tell you about my training, Caffrey… but then I’d have to kill you.”
This joke, initially, intimidated Neal quite a bit. Now the words do little more than irritate him, despite the fact that he’s relatively certain Bryce isn’t always joking when he says them.
“Why does it bother you?” Bryce asks, sounding sincerely curious. This, too, is unimpressive. Neal himself could sincerely introduce himself as the Costa Gravan ambassador to Lima if he so chose; sincerity is easily forged by those with their skill set. “I’ve got nothing you don’t got,” Bryce says, still smirking.
That… isn’t entirely true. Neal takes pride in his physique. He is no less trim and fit than Bryce, but there is something different in Bryce’s musculature. Something that doesn’t say ’yoga’ so much as ’martial arts’. And Bryce’s scars-
Well, Bryce has scars. Neal doesn’t, so he can’t be sure, but he’s pretty sure the one on Bryce’s shoulder is from a gunshot wound. The one that wraps around his left side could be from a knife.
The scars shouldn’t draw Neal’s eyes the way they do, irresistibly. And not just because it’s like looking into a mirror at a darker, different Neal.
But because Neal watches a drop of sweat trace a path down from Bryce’s collarbone, past scar tissue… past Bryce’s right nipple…
And Neal, oddly - insanely - He feels like-
“True.” Neal forces his attention back on the game. He lays down his hand. “I’ve got two pair.”
Bryce’s smirk freezes. He eyes Neal’s cards, then his own. Then he laughs.
He tosses his hand face-down on the table. “So you do.”
It occurs to Neal that, with a small army of bad guys still running around the country looking for them, he shouldn’t feel as good about beating Bryce as he does.
Especially when he reaches for the toothpicks they’re using as chips and Bryce says, “Does this mean I can take off my pants now?”
Neal looks at him sharply.
“Kidding!”
[ end. ]
This is a sequel to Staying Power for everyone who enjoyed it ♥