Den svenska massör
Author: NYWCgirl
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: none
Characters: Peter, Neal,
Warning: none
Spoilers: none
Rating: Gen
Genre: minor injuries, hurt/comfort
Author's Notes: This story fills my `Backrubs/massages´ square on my h/c bingo card.
Word Count: ~ 900
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Peter is pushed down some stairs. El is in San Francisco so it is up to Neal to take care of Peter. Neal allegedly may have posed as a Swedish masseur in the past.
Story can be found on AO3.
“It was nice doing business with you.”
“That´s it, let´s go.” Peter drew his gun and opened the back of the van.
“FBI, throw away your weapon, on the ground, NOW!” Peter bellowed to their suspect after he had made sure Neal´s was not in any danger.
However, their suspect had other plans and started running. Peter immediately gave pursuit with Neal in tow. They came around the corner and… there was nobody. Gun in front of him, Peter slowly checked out where he could have gone when suddenly…
The man appeared out of nowhere, tackling Peter. Unfortunately there was a short flight of stairs and both men tumbled down.
“Peter!” Neal cried out, seeing Peter disappear.
Neal took the stairs three at a time and immediately kicked the gun out of reach of their suspect. The man was out and Neal asked the team in the van to call an ambulance.
It didn´t take long for back up to arrive along with the paramedics.
“Peter?”
“Where did he come from?” Peter groaned.
“You feel down some stairs. How do you feel?”
“OK I guess, sore.”
“Well, let the paramedics be the judge of that, shall we?”
As a precaution Peter was taken to hospital. Two hours later he was discharged with the advice to take some OTC painrelief and to use cold and warm packs and give his muscles some rest.
Neal took a limp looking Peter home. They had given him some muscle relaxants and Peter was surprisingly relaxed when he handed over the keys to the Taurus to Neal. By the time they arrived at DeKalb Avenue Peter was fast asleep. Neal contemplated on what he should do, but there was only one way to get Peter into the house, so he gently shook Peter awake.
“Come on, wake up Peter, I cannot carry you. Come on.”
“Hm?” Peter groans, blinking in confusion.
“We´re home, let´s get inside and into bed.”
“OK.” Peter did his best to get out of the car, but in the end, Neal sort of dragged him inside. Peter immediately steered towards the couch, but Neal pushed him to the stairs, gently pushing an excited Satchmo to the side.
“You won´t be happy when you wake up on the couch tomorrow morning. Let´s get you into bed.”
“Sure.”
It must have been the painkillers to reduce Peter to mono syllable answers. The track upstairs was slow going but they finally made it. Neal had Peter sit on the bed while he took off his shoes and socks. Peter did nothing to help, just watched Neal rummage through the room.
“Where are your pajamas?”
“Under my pillow.”
Neal sighed and walked over to get them. When he turned around, Peter had slumped on the bed and was snoring.
So he grabbed Peter´s legs and readjusted his legs on the bed before covering him with the covers. He then went back down and petted Satchmo before refilling the bowls. He then checked the Burke´s wine collection. Thank God for Elizabeth. Pouring himself a glass, he settled in the couch before calling Elizabeth, explaining her what happened earlier, but that Peter was not hurt badly, just sore. No, she didn´t need to come home early, he would take care of Peter. He finished the call with the promise that he would ask Peter to call her first thing in the morning.
Before turning in himself, he made a call to Mozzie for some supplies and checked on Peter, who was sound asleep.
* * *
The next morning, the house was still quiet. Neal quickly walked down to let Satchmo out and then went back up to shower. He was preparing breakfast when he heard life upstairs, so he decided to check it out. He found a totally miserable Peter who was trying to get out of bed.
“Wait Peter, I will get you your muscle relaxants.”
“Make it quick, my back is cramping up.” Peter gritted between his teeth.
Neal shook a pill out of the bottle and handed it to Peter with a glass of water.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Peter is studying him. “Do I want to know?”
“Shall I give you a massage, it would help while the pills kick in.”
“No thanks.”
“I allegedly was a masseur once, I really do know what I am doing.”
“ Oh, that is why you are wearing that white outfit. Do I want to know?”
“Probably not, but I thought you said you trusted me?”
Another spasm hit Peter. “At the moment, I will try anything.”
“Good, lay on your stomach, I will get some oil.”
Neal quickly walked into the bathroom grabbing the oil he had been warming just in case. Preparation is everything, thank you Mozzie.
Neal came back in with the oil and big fluffy bath towels. He spreads one over Peter´s buttocks, pulling his pajama pants and underwear a bit lower. He poured the oil in his hands and started massaging.
Peter groaned and moaned but slowly Neal could feel Peter relax under his hands.
“How do you feel?”
Peter took stock of his body before answering.
“Actually, much better, thanks.”
“Jag sa ju det” (Told you so)
“Maybe you should teach El how to massage. Do you have one of those uniforms for her as well?”
Neal studies Peter for a second.
“Owkey… I´m going to go downstairs now and see to breakfast.”
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: none
Characters: Peter, Neal,
Warning: none
Spoilers: none
Rating: Gen
Genre: minor injuries, hurt/comfort
Author's Notes: This story fills my `Backrubs/massages´ square on my h/c bingo card.
Word Count: ~ 900
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Peter is pushed down some stairs. El is in San Francisco so it is up to Neal to take care of Peter. Neal allegedly may have posed as a Swedish masseur in the past.
Story can be found on AO3.
“It was nice doing business with you.”
“That´s it, let´s go.” Peter drew his gun and opened the back of the van.
“FBI, throw away your weapon, on the ground, NOW!” Peter bellowed to their suspect after he had made sure Neal´s was not in any danger.
However, their suspect had other plans and started running. Peter immediately gave pursuit with Neal in tow. They came around the corner and… there was nobody. Gun in front of him, Peter slowly checked out where he could have gone when suddenly…
The man appeared out of nowhere, tackling Peter. Unfortunately there was a short flight of stairs and both men tumbled down.
“Peter!” Neal cried out, seeing Peter disappear.
Neal took the stairs three at a time and immediately kicked the gun out of reach of their suspect. The man was out and Neal asked the team in the van to call an ambulance.
It didn´t take long for back up to arrive along with the paramedics.
“Peter?”
“Where did he come from?” Peter groaned.
“You feel down some stairs. How do you feel?”
“OK I guess, sore.”
“Well, let the paramedics be the judge of that, shall we?”
As a precaution Peter was taken to hospital. Two hours later he was discharged with the advice to take some OTC painrelief and to use cold and warm packs and give his muscles some rest.
Neal took a limp looking Peter home. They had given him some muscle relaxants and Peter was surprisingly relaxed when he handed over the keys to the Taurus to Neal. By the time they arrived at DeKalb Avenue Peter was fast asleep. Neal contemplated on what he should do, but there was only one way to get Peter into the house, so he gently shook Peter awake.
“Come on, wake up Peter, I cannot carry you. Come on.”
“Hm?” Peter groans, blinking in confusion.
“We´re home, let´s get inside and into bed.”
“OK.” Peter did his best to get out of the car, but in the end, Neal sort of dragged him inside. Peter immediately steered towards the couch, but Neal pushed him to the stairs, gently pushing an excited Satchmo to the side.
“You won´t be happy when you wake up on the couch tomorrow morning. Let´s get you into bed.”
“Sure.”
It must have been the painkillers to reduce Peter to mono syllable answers. The track upstairs was slow going but they finally made it. Neal had Peter sit on the bed while he took off his shoes and socks. Peter did nothing to help, just watched Neal rummage through the room.
“Where are your pajamas?”
“Under my pillow.”
Neal sighed and walked over to get them. When he turned around, Peter had slumped on the bed and was snoring.
So he grabbed Peter´s legs and readjusted his legs on the bed before covering him with the covers. He then went back down and petted Satchmo before refilling the bowls. He then checked the Burke´s wine collection. Thank God for Elizabeth. Pouring himself a glass, he settled in the couch before calling Elizabeth, explaining her what happened earlier, but that Peter was not hurt badly, just sore. No, she didn´t need to come home early, he would take care of Peter. He finished the call with the promise that he would ask Peter to call her first thing in the morning.
Before turning in himself, he made a call to Mozzie for some supplies and checked on Peter, who was sound asleep.
* * *
The next morning, the house was still quiet. Neal quickly walked down to let Satchmo out and then went back up to shower. He was preparing breakfast when he heard life upstairs, so he decided to check it out. He found a totally miserable Peter who was trying to get out of bed.
“Wait Peter, I will get you your muscle relaxants.”
“Make it quick, my back is cramping up.” Peter gritted between his teeth.
Neal shook a pill out of the bottle and handed it to Peter with a glass of water.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Peter is studying him. “Do I want to know?”
“Shall I give you a massage, it would help while the pills kick in.”
“No thanks.”
“I allegedly was a masseur once, I really do know what I am doing.”
“ Oh, that is why you are wearing that white outfit. Do I want to know?”
“Probably not, but I thought you said you trusted me?”
Another spasm hit Peter. “At the moment, I will try anything.”
“Good, lay on your stomach, I will get some oil.”
Neal quickly walked into the bathroom grabbing the oil he had been warming just in case. Preparation is everything, thank you Mozzie.
Neal came back in with the oil and big fluffy bath towels. He spreads one over Peter´s buttocks, pulling his pajama pants and underwear a bit lower. He poured the oil in his hands and started massaging.
Peter groaned and moaned but slowly Neal could feel Peter relax under his hands.
“How do you feel?”
Peter took stock of his body before answering.
“Actually, much better, thanks.”
“Jag sa ju det” (Told you so)
“Maybe you should teach El how to massage. Do you have one of those uniforms for her as well?”
Neal studies Peter for a second.
“Owkey… I´m going to go downstairs now and see to breakfast.”