Stolen Confessions [Pre-OT3] R
Title: Stolen Confessions
Author:
turtlebaby_02
Fandom: White Collar
Written For:
mmom 2014
Characters (Pairings): Pre- Peter/Neal/Elizabeth
Rating: R
Word Count: 963
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. I'm just playing.
Summary: Elizabeth gets Neal drunk and asks a very important question.
Author's Note: If I could just get caught up, that'd be so great. Tomorrows another day! Whee!
He was a con man extraordinaire, lies and manipulation came easy to him. Easy peasy. Even under the effects of alcohol and his partner’s wife's big blue twinkling eyes. "No! Elizabeth!" He laughed although his drunken mind wasn't sure he was more amused or terrified.
"Seriously?" If it was possible, her grin got wider. "It's a natural occurrence, hell, you spend more time with him than I do."
She had brought over a couple of bottles of wine, wanting his opinion on which would go better with the array of desserts she'd also been wielding in her small picnic basket. A local charity was running a Dark Desserts Event the following month and she was having a hard time deciding which wine complimented the different flavors of chocolate better.
He'd made up his mind after the first drink - she'd continued to pour. Now, almost two hours later and a bottle or two into his own stash, he was ass to the floor, head against the couch cushions, discussing Peter's attractiveness with his wife. Terrified was just the tip is the iceberg.
"Elizabeth Burke." He was slurring just a little and giggled when her name tickled his lips. "I am not sure this is appropriate discussion."
She was sprawled on the couch behind him, her legs settled just behind his head. "Peter's at a sleep away with his other gun toting friends, I'm drunk, and you're drunk. When would this discussion ever be more appropriate?"
"Never?" Neal twisted so he was looking at her more directly. "When does any wife want to know when her husbands partner is attracted to him?"
"So you are!" El crowed triumphantly. "I knew it."
"I never said that." He hiccuped and grinned crookedly at her.
"It's ok with me, if you are." She rested a hand on his head, suddenly serious. "More than ok, actually."
"Why?" Curiosity was a powerful thing while drunk. "I mean..." He waved his hands, sloshing the drink he kept forgetting he was holding.
"Don't spill that. It's expensive." She sat up and slid to the floor beside him. "What if I told you that the two of you are one of my favorite fantasies?"
"Jesus, Elizabeth." Unbidden, the image of her getting off to one of his favorite fantasies rose to mind. "You don't just drop that on a guy!"
"He talks in his sleep." She leaned her head against his shoulder, continuing like he hadn't spoke. "And then he jerks off in the shower."
"Oh my God." Neal groaned and swallowed the rest of his glass in one steady pull. "I'm not drunk enough for this."
She tilted her head and found his eyes with a playful grin on her face. "And it's not my name off his lips, Neal." She dragged his name out just enough to make it seductive.
"You can't just tell people stuff like that." But there was a smile on his face. "Not when, when - Elizabeth, I have to be able to look him in the eye on Monday and not imagine him imagining me."
"If I thought, for one second you didn't feel the same or would use it against him, I wouldn't have told you." She dropped her head again and nuzzled into his shoulder. "But you do. And I trust you."
They sat in silence for a long time. A drunken inquiry suddenly held a lot of power. "What do you want me to do?" He finally asked, a little alarmed by the hope in the quiet of his voice.
She shrugged against him. "Maybe, maybe you should just try letting him love you." She yawned. "He may want to fuck you senseless, but mostly, I think... he's got a damn good heart, Neal. And, other than me, you're his best friend. He wouldn't - want you if he didn't want you. If he didn't feel-" she yawned again. "He's more than likely a little in love with you."
Silence fell again and Neal rolled that around and let it marinate in the wine surrounding his brain. His silver tongue was failing him but he didn't need words anyway - by the time he found something to say, her gentle snore interrupted him. "Elizabeth?" He nudged her shoulder.
She mumbled and burrowed in closer to him. "Awe, El." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
It was harder than he thought to get her off the floor and back on the couch, but he managed to do so without much help from her. He draped a blanket over her and stumbled his way to his bed. He dropped the contents of his pockets onto the table and his phone caught his eye, he grabbed it and thumbed it on, hitting speed dial as he shrugged off his shirt. It was ringing as his pants hit the floor.
Peter answered as he tumbled into his bed. "Neal?"
"Did I wake you?" He knew he sounded drunk and almost regretted it. "M'sorry."
"No, we're three hours behind." Oregon was like a whole other planet in Neal's head, he'd been trapped to two miles for too long. "We're just getting back to the hotel. Neal, is everything ok?"
"Been talking to your wife. Full disclosure, she got us drunk, told me you loved me, and passed out on my couch."
"Um."
"I'm not asking if you do." Neal rushed. "But if you do, it's ok with me and... we should talk. When you're here and I'm sober. We should talk. If you do." He paused with his air trapped in his lungs, but the silence stretched on too long "Peter?"
"Yeah. Yeah, we should talk." He swallowed audibly. "Goodnight Neal."
"Goodnight Peter." He hung up and slipped easily into the clutches of sleep.
<3 Thank you!
Author:
turtlebaby_02
Fandom: White Collar
Written For:
mmom 2014
Characters (Pairings): Pre- Peter/Neal/Elizabeth
Rating: R
Word Count: 963
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. I'm just playing.
Summary: Elizabeth gets Neal drunk and asks a very important question.
Author's Note: If I could just get caught up, that'd be so great. Tomorrows another day! Whee!
He was a con man extraordinaire, lies and manipulation came easy to him. Easy peasy. Even under the effects of alcohol and his partner’s wife's big blue twinkling eyes. "No! Elizabeth!" He laughed although his drunken mind wasn't sure he was more amused or terrified.
"Seriously?" If it was possible, her grin got wider. "It's a natural occurrence, hell, you spend more time with him than I do."
She had brought over a couple of bottles of wine, wanting his opinion on which would go better with the array of desserts she'd also been wielding in her small picnic basket. A local charity was running a Dark Desserts Event the following month and she was having a hard time deciding which wine complimented the different flavors of chocolate better.
He'd made up his mind after the first drink - she'd continued to pour. Now, almost two hours later and a bottle or two into his own stash, he was ass to the floor, head against the couch cushions, discussing Peter's attractiveness with his wife. Terrified was just the tip is the iceberg.
"Elizabeth Burke." He was slurring just a little and giggled when her name tickled his lips. "I am not sure this is appropriate discussion."
She was sprawled on the couch behind him, her legs settled just behind his head. "Peter's at a sleep away with his other gun toting friends, I'm drunk, and you're drunk. When would this discussion ever be more appropriate?"
"Never?" Neal twisted so he was looking at her more directly. "When does any wife want to know when her husbands partner is attracted to him?"
"So you are!" El crowed triumphantly. "I knew it."
"I never said that." He hiccuped and grinned crookedly at her.
"It's ok with me, if you are." She rested a hand on his head, suddenly serious. "More than ok, actually."
"Why?" Curiosity was a powerful thing while drunk. "I mean..." He waved his hands, sloshing the drink he kept forgetting he was holding.
"Don't spill that. It's expensive." She sat up and slid to the floor beside him. "What if I told you that the two of you are one of my favorite fantasies?"
"Jesus, Elizabeth." Unbidden, the image of her getting off to one of his favorite fantasies rose to mind. "You don't just drop that on a guy!"
"He talks in his sleep." She leaned her head against his shoulder, continuing like he hadn't spoke. "And then he jerks off in the shower."
"Oh my God." Neal groaned and swallowed the rest of his glass in one steady pull. "I'm not drunk enough for this."
She tilted her head and found his eyes with a playful grin on her face. "And it's not my name off his lips, Neal." She dragged his name out just enough to make it seductive.
"You can't just tell people stuff like that." But there was a smile on his face. "Not when, when - Elizabeth, I have to be able to look him in the eye on Monday and not imagine him imagining me."
"If I thought, for one second you didn't feel the same or would use it against him, I wouldn't have told you." She dropped her head again and nuzzled into his shoulder. "But you do. And I trust you."
They sat in silence for a long time. A drunken inquiry suddenly held a lot of power. "What do you want me to do?" He finally asked, a little alarmed by the hope in the quiet of his voice.
She shrugged against him. "Maybe, maybe you should just try letting him love you." She yawned. "He may want to fuck you senseless, but mostly, I think... he's got a damn good heart, Neal. And, other than me, you're his best friend. He wouldn't - want you if he didn't want you. If he didn't feel-" she yawned again. "He's more than likely a little in love with you."
Silence fell again and Neal rolled that around and let it marinate in the wine surrounding his brain. His silver tongue was failing him but he didn't need words anyway - by the time he found something to say, her gentle snore interrupted him. "Elizabeth?" He nudged her shoulder.
She mumbled and burrowed in closer to him. "Awe, El." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
It was harder than he thought to get her off the floor and back on the couch, but he managed to do so without much help from her. He draped a blanket over her and stumbled his way to his bed. He dropped the contents of his pockets onto the table and his phone caught his eye, he grabbed it and thumbed it on, hitting speed dial as he shrugged off his shirt. It was ringing as his pants hit the floor.
Peter answered as he tumbled into his bed. "Neal?"
"Did I wake you?" He knew he sounded drunk and almost regretted it. "M'sorry."
"No, we're three hours behind." Oregon was like a whole other planet in Neal's head, he'd been trapped to two miles for too long. "We're just getting back to the hotel. Neal, is everything ok?"
"Been talking to your wife. Full disclosure, she got us drunk, told me you loved me, and passed out on my couch."
"Um."
"I'm not asking if you do." Neal rushed. "But if you do, it's ok with me and... we should talk. When you're here and I'm sober. We should talk. If you do." He paused with his air trapped in his lungs, but the silence stretched on too long "Peter?"
"Yeah. Yeah, we should talk." He swallowed audibly. "Goodnight Neal."
"Goodnight Peter." He hung up and slipped easily into the clutches of sleep.
<3 Thank you!