Day 27 - One of Those Things - Peter/Neal - R
Title: One of Those Things
Author:
turtlebaby_02
Fandom: White Collar
Written For:
mmom 2014
Characters (Pairings): Peter/Neal
Rating: R
Word Count: 550
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. I'm just playing.
Summary: Peter needs a nap. Neal's bed is available.
Sleeping in someone's bed without them was almost as intimate as sleeping in their bed with them. Peter mused over this thought as his head hit the pillow and the smell of Neal's shampoo filled his nose. Especially when they haven't changed the sheets.
He'd dropped Neal in his own bed a handful of times in the last few years without a thought. But this was the first time he'd ever been this up close and personal with Neal's own bed space, and he found himself inexplicably captured by the sensation.
There was a thing between them. A thing without a name, it was a respect thing that turned into a friend thing, to a trust thing, to a crush thing. At least on Peter's part.
And now it was, apparently, a sleepover thing because it was three in the morning and Peter had been awake since a tip came in at four am yesterday and there was no way he was making it home. Neal, who had slept while Peter worked was determined to return the favor and (and he might just be tired) when he steered him to the bed and offered to change the pillowcase the look on his face reminded Peter an awful lot of a love thing.
So Peter had given in and kicked off his shoes and stripped to his boxers without shame, but now with sand in his eyes he couldn't sleep. He could, he supposed if he'd actually tried. But Neal was 10 feet away and Peter could hear the stoke of the brush across canvas and he was in Neal's bed - the one place everyone is a little bit vulnerable.
He shifted and rolled onto his belly, his sleep deprived brain lining up his chest with the indent of Neal that was all in his head. He had his arms under the pillow and pressed it to his nose and it was Neal - the smell he was only vaguely familiar with, something that lurked under the expensive cologne and fancy suits but it was imprinted now and Peter had the desire to taste it off his skin.
Wow, wrong thought, bad thought. Totally inappropriate thought. Had he mentioned that it was also a lust thing? Because yeah, it was a lust thing too.
He was too tired for his cock to do anything but stir with interest when he considered that Neal had probably gotten himself off on this bed. Had probably clutched these sheets and gotten his feet tangled in these blankets.
It was probably a good thing he was so tired.
The bed dipped and Peter jumped, he hadn't heard Neal approaching for the all the chattering in his busy mind. But the bed dipped and now he smelled paint and sweat and his heart rate rose a little.
"You mind?" Neal murmured. "I've got to let that dry and the couch is just too short."
Peter hummed an assent and finally drifted. It wasn't until he was sure if he was even still awake that something, probably that fucking lust thing, propelled him to speak. "You smell good."
"What?"
"Like peaches and you."
"Peaches?" He sounded confused. "I smell like peaches?"
Peter hummed again and disappeared over the edge of consciousness.
~