MMOM Day 14 Fic: To Dream: Perchance to Sleep
Title: To Dream: Perchance to Sleep
Author: turtlebaby_02
Fandom: White Collar
Written For: MMOM 2013
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke (Peter/Elizabeth)
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 570
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He couldn't sleep. He'd had a long day followed by a dull night, full of pizza and beer and only himself for company; El was at some trade show out of town for the next two nights. He'd fallen asleep on the couch out o sheer boredom and when he'd jerked awaken and dragged him butt upstairs, he was sure he'd drop right off again. No. He tossed back and forth on the bed, nothing feeling comfortable. The pillows too soft and too lumpy, the blanket too hot, no blanket too cold. He opened his eyes and searched for the clock, surely he'd been laying here for the entire night at this point. When he found it he groaned, he'd only been upstairs for twenty minutes.
Sighing, he turned onto his back and laced his fingers over his chest. He concentrated on relaxing his muscle groups, one at a time, starting with his toes, his ankles, calves. He worked his way up his body, finally dropping his shoulders down onto the mattress and his cheeks, that right spot behind his ears, even his scalp relaxed when he told it to. This was a trick El used on him when he couldn't sleep. And apparently it didn't work nearly as we'll without her soft voice behind it. He lay there, as still and as calm as he could for as long as he could stand it. Finally he gave up and peered longingly at the clock again. Five more minutes. Bringing his grand total of bedtime to still under a half hour.
He missed El. How her hand would slide across his belly, the weight of it warm and comforting and relaxing. How sometimes when he couldn't see to fall asleep she'd let him be the little spoon and would mumble sleepily into the back of his shoulder until sleep overtook him. How she liked to slip warm fingers under the elastic of his pajama pants, stroking, petting, playing, until he was rock hard and thrusting helplessly into her hand until she wrapped her fist around him and she used long firm strokes until he came with a shudder and a gasp.
Yeah, he missed her. He cock was straining now, at the thought of her touch, and he didn't waste a second of the fantasy as he reached down and tugged his erection free of the confines of his boxers. His touch was harder and rougher than hers would be, his hand bigger and his stroke faster and far more urgent. He teased his balls with the other hand, rolling them in his fingers as his breathing grew erratic and his body tightened, aching and thrumming with arousal.
He increased his speed and gasped every time his hand slipped over the tip only to slide down again, pulling overheated over sensitive skin tight. And when he came, hot against his belly, his toes curled, his whole body clenched, and Elizabeth's name came tumbling off his lips. He sagged back against the pillows he groped out and found the box of tissues by the bed and wiped himself up as best he could. And then he lay there, his panting turning to deep even breaths, his heart rate slowly falling back to normal.
And as he listened to the pound of his heart and the rhythm of his breathing he was only sort of aware as he eased off into sleep
.
Author: turtlebaby_02
Fandom: White Collar
Written For: MMOM 2013
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke (Peter/Elizabeth)
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 570
.
He couldn't sleep. He'd had a long day followed by a dull night, full of pizza and beer and only himself for company; El was at some trade show out of town for the next two nights. He'd fallen asleep on the couch out o sheer boredom and when he'd jerked awaken and dragged him butt upstairs, he was sure he'd drop right off again. No. He tossed back and forth on the bed, nothing feeling comfortable. The pillows too soft and too lumpy, the blanket too hot, no blanket too cold. He opened his eyes and searched for the clock, surely he'd been laying here for the entire night at this point. When he found it he groaned, he'd only been upstairs for twenty minutes.
Sighing, he turned onto his back and laced his fingers over his chest. He concentrated on relaxing his muscle groups, one at a time, starting with his toes, his ankles, calves. He worked his way up his body, finally dropping his shoulders down onto the mattress and his cheeks, that right spot behind his ears, even his scalp relaxed when he told it to. This was a trick El used on him when he couldn't sleep. And apparently it didn't work nearly as we'll without her soft voice behind it. He lay there, as still and as calm as he could for as long as he could stand it. Finally he gave up and peered longingly at the clock again. Five more minutes. Bringing his grand total of bedtime to still under a half hour.
He missed El. How her hand would slide across his belly, the weight of it warm and comforting and relaxing. How sometimes when he couldn't see to fall asleep she'd let him be the little spoon and would mumble sleepily into the back of his shoulder until sleep overtook him. How she liked to slip warm fingers under the elastic of his pajama pants, stroking, petting, playing, until he was rock hard and thrusting helplessly into her hand until she wrapped her fist around him and she used long firm strokes until he came with a shudder and a gasp.
Yeah, he missed her. He cock was straining now, at the thought of her touch, and he didn't waste a second of the fantasy as he reached down and tugged his erection free of the confines of his boxers. His touch was harder and rougher than hers would be, his hand bigger and his stroke faster and far more urgent. He teased his balls with the other hand, rolling them in his fingers as his breathing grew erratic and his body tightened, aching and thrumming with arousal.
He increased his speed and gasped every time his hand slipped over the tip only to slide down again, pulling overheated over sensitive skin tight. And when he came, hot against his belly, his toes curled, his whole body clenched, and Elizabeth's name came tumbling off his lips. He sagged back against the pillows he groped out and found the box of tissues by the bed and wiped himself up as best he could. And then he lay there, his panting turning to deep even breaths, his heart rate slowly falling back to normal.
And as he listened to the pound of his heart and the rhythm of his breathing he was only sort of aware as he eased off into sleep
.