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Summary: This is the very last time Peter allows Neal to choose his undercover attire.
Notes: Written for Round 4 of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
runthecon. I got tagged by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tjs_whatnot, inheriting the prompt “Slippery When Wet”. Of course, the musical part of my brain went all the way back to the mid-1980s when my favorite band Bon Jovi released their album of the same title. Set in no specific season. Neal and Peter are on the road to an established relationship (El and Hughes know about it, the rest is slowly catching on). Title derived from an Iggy Pop song. Unbetaed, so if you spot any typos and errors, please point them out to me. Enjoy!
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Ever since Peter told him that he would have to go undercover to push their current case, Neal couldn’t quite contain his glee. Of all the parts of being a CI for the FBI, going undercover was definitely his favorite. And not just for the fact that he could take out all his conman qualities this way every once in a while, but also for the possibility to rile up Peter with some well-placed innuendos only the other man would understand.
Earlier that day, Peter had sent him home, with the instructions to choose something fitting for a club. Neal only smiled at his lover, a plan already forming in his mind. So far, they only had made it to the make-out stage, and though it included some heavy petting and groping, Neal wanted more. He wanted all of Peter, and tonight, after his little show, the other man wouldn’t be able to resist any longer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh you got to be kidding me!”
Diana’s exclamation, bordering on desperation, brought Peter’s current train of thought to a halt and his head up from the case files to the monitors. Following her gaze, Peter completely understood his colleague’s reaction.
Apparently, Neal had chosen to keep his real attire hidden until he was inside the club and the team was only riding shotgun in his ear. Instead of the jeans and sweater he was sporting during the short briefing in the van (which was its own kind of surprise to their latest probie, since the young woman had seen Neal only in his suits so far), Neal now wore skintight, shiny black leather pants, heavy boots, and a bright yellow tank top. The whole outfit may have had a casual look, but Peter would probably win every bet that it all was either custom-made or refitted, if the snug fit of the trousers, especially around Neal’s crotch and ass, was anything to go by.
“Like what you see?”
Peter couldn’t help but groan. Of course, Neal had to ask the question as casual as possible, only to contradict himself by wiggling his hips in a manner that made Peter dizzy. One of these days, Neal Caffrey was responsible for his death, one way or another.
“You got a job to do, Neal,” Peter said with as much conviction as he could muster, adding a layer or two of authority to his voice for good measure. “So stop parading like a peacock and get to work.”
“Yes, sir, as you wish,” came the response, drawled in the best Brit accent Neal could muster without raising suspicion in the clubgoers. Peter didn’t response, opting for putting his head in his hands instead. This way though, he also missed an exchange of looks and smiles by Diana and Clinton.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some two hours later, and their current case was closed. With a “little” help from his alcoholic friends and some heavy flirting, Neal managed to get their culprit, a young, wayward Wall Street broker, to confess everything – and even a bit more. Back in the van, the team was all but stunned by Neal’s talents.
Peter, of course, was no exception to that, but the usual feeling of success he always felt after closing a case was having a raging battle inside of him with some jealousy. And of course, Neal was to be held responsible for the low growls everyone could hear during the operation.
Wasting no time, Peter told the team to close shop for the night and finish the paperwork the next day. Before any of them could even say “good night”, he was out of the van, taking a calming breath of the cool night air of New York before stalking over to where Neal was standing like a predator closing in on his prey.
“Neal, with me! We need to talk!”
Under normal circumstances, Peter’s voice bore no resistance, neither in Neal nor in anyone else in hearing distance. There was just enough force in these clipped sentences to let everybody know who was in charge.
What it didn’t let on was the fact that exactly this tone, this timbre sent some very delicious shivers up and down Neal’s spine. And when it was paired with a heavy side of barely suppressed arousal, the better, Neal thought to himself with a smile.
“Where’s the fire, Peter?” he asked while turning around, taking in the other man. Oh boy, Peter was exactly where Neal wanted him – on the verge, willing to do everything to him. Good.
“Not here. I have to drive you home nonetheless, so you better be prepared for some listening.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Neal retorted with a mock salute before strutting over to where Peter’s car was parked, making sure to swing his hips to some random rhythm playing in his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Before long, Peter pulled into the street next to June’s mansion and further into the recently built carport, made perfectly for occasions like this one.
“So, Peter, you promised me some talking, but I didn’t hear…” Neal couldn’t finish his sentence, mostly due to the fact that Peter crashed his lips to Neal’s in an almost bruising manner. Both of the older man’s hands came up to Neal’s head, burying themselves in the barely tamed dark locks and mussing them up even more.
At some point, breathing became a matter, and they both refilled their lungs with deep gulps of air.
“Get out…” Peter growled, a low, guttural sound that sent all of Neal’s blood straight into his cock (which was already painfully hard, at least halfway due to Peter’s veiled displays of jealousy). Nonetheless, Neal had to come up with a comment.
“You’re quite bossy tonight. I mean, you’re always bossy, but there’s just a bit more to it tonight.”
“Stop whining and get out,” Peter gave back, again with a light growl at the end while getting out of the car himself. Not willing to chance anything, Neal followed suit, heading into the house with Peter through the side entrance.
For once, it was a good thing that June was out of town, visiting relatives and old friends in New Orleans and Baton Rouge. Sure, she wouldn’t mind them expressing their feelings in every possible way, but both Neal and Peter still had some appearances to keep up – which you couldn’t if you got caught with your pants down, literally.
Instead of taking the stairs up to Neal’s apartment, he led Peter over to the service elevator. He just managed to send them off to their destination before Peter attacked and trapped Neal between the wood panel and his body. Their crotches collided, causing them both to groan upon feeling the hardness hidden behind only a layer of cloth. Neal couldn’t help but roll his hips forward, pressing his erection further into where Peter’s hip met his thigh.
Peter’s retaliation was to catch both of Neal’s hands and trap them over his head before leaning in, close to Neal’s ear.
“Your ass is mine tonight,” he whispered so low that Neal had to strain his ears to catch it.
“I… I was hoping for that,” Neal retorted, his usual speech pattern disturbed by his efforts to keep control of his neither regions.
Before Peter could come with any response, they were up on Neal’s floor, entering the younger man’s apartment through the terrace doors. In some kind of anticipation, June had asked Mozzie to accompany her on her trip, making sure that Neal and Peter were undisturbed.
As part of his usual post-case ritual, Neal started to go over to his wine rack – only to be stopped by Peter’s hand on his arm.
“You can have a glass afterwards, but for now, you’re at my mercy.”
While speaking, Peter continued to back them up to the small table. Once there, Neal laid back, pulling Peter with him just by grabbing his tie. For the next few minutes, they kissed like there was no tomorrow while letting their hands roam over the other man’s body.
At some point, Neal lost the shirt, followed by the boots, while he only managed to relieve Peter from his tie. With a low growl of frustration, Neal tried to sit up, only to be pushed back on his back.
“Peter… bed… now!”
Again, Neal tried to sit up, but once again, Peter had a different idea. This time, he let Neal sit up, but instead of letting him get up from the table, he put his hands under Neal’s most delicious ass, pulled him close, and walked them over to Neal’s bed, where he dropped the younger man unceremoniously in the middle.
While Neal was busy with catching his breath, Peter made quick work of his suit and shirt, leaving him in only his underwear. Watching him intently, Neal could feel himself getting even harder, ready to burst the seams of the laced front of his leather pants at any given moment.
Once again, Peter trapped Neal’s hands over his head with one of his, while taking his sweet time in loosening the laces. Neal, already bordering on desperation for any kind of touch down there, tried to roll his hips, but Peter stopped him by pressing his hands further back over the edge of the bed.
At last, Neal felt his cock springing free from the confines of the pants, accompanied by a gasp from his lover when Peter noticed that something was missing – namely any kind of underwear on Neal’s body.
“You know that you’re a damn tease, Caffrey,” Peter growled in his ear, right as he closed his free hand around Neal’s erection, causing the man to groan and shudder slightly. Usually, Neal was proud of his stamina (and not one of his lovers ever had reason to complain about it), but if Peter was keeping up this game and pace, he wasn’t bound to last.
Apparently, Neal’s thoughts somehow got transported to Peter, since the man released both Neal’s hands and cock, in order to hunt down some kind of lube.
“Top drawer,” was all Neal had to say.
With a smile that was close to maniacal, Peter returned and locked his lips with Neal’s in a searing kiss before dropping to a hunch and starting to pull the skintight material down the younger man’s legs.
At this point, Neal’s whole body was a giant bundle of nerves. Every single touch, no matter how slightly, left a scorching trail on his skin, setting his senses on fire, leaving him desperate for even more. Neal Caffrey was, for the first time ever, drowning in lust, and Peter Burke was his only savior.
Speaking of Peter: he was taking his sweet time in preparing Neal’s ass, teasing the puckered hole relentlessly, inserting a finger or two and scissoring them every now and then, eliciting some most heavenly sounds from the man beneath him.
Finally, and Neal couldn’t help but answer this with a soft sigh, Peter considered it enough preparation and lathered his own cock in lube, putting on some show for Neal, who watched his actions through hooded eyes.
“You’re ready?”
“Peter, I was born ready. And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not the first guy for me,” Neal answered, his words interrupted by some heavy breathing.
Not wasting any more time, Peter lined his cock up with Neal’s hole, pushing slowly in. Both men couldn’t quite contain the groan, it just felt too good to stop – and yet, Peter all but did it.
“Peter, I’m not some delicate lady you might break. I can take it, and I definitely don’t mind some pain in the mix,” Neal said with a wink while reaching around Peter and grabbing his ass, pulling him closer to his own body, pushing Peter’s cock in to the hilt.
“Damn it, Peter, move, or so God help me!”
Neal knew he sounded downright desperate and was begging, but he couldn’t care less right now. His whole body was strumming with lust, a raw, unbridled fire was spreading out from the depths of his belly, and the only goal on his mind was reaching this most wonderful of all peaks, hopefully with Peter.
“As you wish, Mr. Impatient,” Peter finally answered with a chuckle, before starting to bottom almost all the way out and pushing back in. At first, he went at a slow pace, but soon, he was all but pounding into Neal, alternating between snapping and circling his hips.
Gradually but steady, their sounds got louder the closer they got to their orgasms. Neal felt a familiar warmth spreading in his body, causing every single nerve to tingle in anticipation.
“Peter…”
He wasn’t able to say more, the lust coursing through his body almost too much to take, but Peter understood perfectly what his lover wanted. Slowing down a bit, he once again closed his hand around Neal’s cock, smearing the pre-come all the way down the shaft before resuming his pounding, now synchronizing his hips with his hand.
Beneath him, Neal was thrashing wildly, his head going left and right. And yet, Peter couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than that. Knowing that he was responsible for Neal coming undone, that he could make the younger man losing all his inhibitions, was a most powerful aphrodisiac, which spurned him to snap his hips even faster, losing himself in the first throes of his own approaching orgasm.
Finally, Neal felt his seed surging up his cock, and with one last groan, he covered both their bellies and Peter’s hand in his come. Over the years, Neal had some rather powerful orgasms, but this one here was a league of its own, leaving him breathless and his vision a blinding white for some very long seconds.
Neal’s orgasm triggered Peter’s, the younger man’s hole squeezing his cock in a most delicious way, milking him dry before leaving him boneless. Like Neal, Peter was out of breath, not really used to the powerful force of a full-fledged orgasm, and so he all but collapsed on Neal.
Both men couldn’t help but groan when Peter finally pulled out, laying down next to Neal, his cock still twitching.
“Wow,” was all that he was able to say, his mind racing a mile a minute.
“Wow indeed,” Neal gave back, apparently not faring better in forming coherent sentences than Peter himself.
“Should I get…?”
“Nah, we can have a shower in the morning. Right now, I would love to cuddle with you,” Neal answered, having found his voice after all.
“Neal Caffrey, master thief, world class con man, cuddler,” Peter summed up before obliging Neal’s wishes and pulling the man in his arms for some major post-coital cuddling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
(for us, the boys kept going on all night ;D)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And here's the pic that came to my mind the second I read the prompt:
Notes: Written for Round 4 of
runthecon. I got tagged by tjs_whatnot, inheriting the prompt “Slippery When Wet”. Of course, the musical part of my brain went all the way back to the mid-1980s when my favorite band Bon Jovi released their album of the same title. Set in no specific season. Neal and Peter are on the road to an established relationship (El and Hughes know about it, the rest is slowly catching on). Title derived from an Iggy Pop song. Unbetaed, so if you spot any typos and errors, please point them out to me. Enjoy!Ever since Peter told him that he would have to go undercover to push their current case, Neal couldn’t quite contain his glee. Of all the parts of being a CI for the FBI, going undercover was definitely his favorite. And not just for the fact that he could take out all his conman qualities this way every once in a while, but also for the possibility to rile up Peter with some well-placed innuendos only the other man would understand.
Earlier that day, Peter had sent him home, with the instructions to choose something fitting for a club. Neal only smiled at his lover, a plan already forming in his mind. So far, they only had made it to the make-out stage, and though it included some heavy petting and groping, Neal wanted more. He wanted all of Peter, and tonight, after his little show, the other man wouldn’t be able to resist any longer.
“Oh you got to be kidding me!”
Diana’s exclamation, bordering on desperation, brought Peter’s current train of thought to a halt and his head up from the case files to the monitors. Following her gaze, Peter completely understood his colleague’s reaction.
Apparently, Neal had chosen to keep his real attire hidden until he was inside the club and the team was only riding shotgun in his ear. Instead of the jeans and sweater he was sporting during the short briefing in the van (which was its own kind of surprise to their latest probie, since the young woman had seen Neal only in his suits so far), Neal now wore skintight, shiny black leather pants, heavy boots, and a bright yellow tank top. The whole outfit may have had a casual look, but Peter would probably win every bet that it all was either custom-made or refitted, if the snug fit of the trousers, especially around Neal’s crotch and ass, was anything to go by.
“Like what you see?”
Peter couldn’t help but groan. Of course, Neal had to ask the question as casual as possible, only to contradict himself by wiggling his hips in a manner that made Peter dizzy. One of these days, Neal Caffrey was responsible for his death, one way or another.
“You got a job to do, Neal,” Peter said with as much conviction as he could muster, adding a layer or two of authority to his voice for good measure. “So stop parading like a peacock and get to work.”
“Yes, sir, as you wish,” came the response, drawled in the best Brit accent Neal could muster without raising suspicion in the clubgoers. Peter didn’t response, opting for putting his head in his hands instead. This way though, he also missed an exchange of looks and smiles by Diana and Clinton.
Some two hours later, and their current case was closed. With a “little” help from his alcoholic friends and some heavy flirting, Neal managed to get their culprit, a young, wayward Wall Street broker, to confess everything – and even a bit more. Back in the van, the team was all but stunned by Neal’s talents.
Peter, of course, was no exception to that, but the usual feeling of success he always felt after closing a case was having a raging battle inside of him with some jealousy. And of course, Neal was to be held responsible for the low growls everyone could hear during the operation.
Wasting no time, Peter told the team to close shop for the night and finish the paperwork the next day. Before any of them could even say “good night”, he was out of the van, taking a calming breath of the cool night air of New York before stalking over to where Neal was standing like a predator closing in on his prey.
“Neal, with me! We need to talk!”
Under normal circumstances, Peter’s voice bore no resistance, neither in Neal nor in anyone else in hearing distance. There was just enough force in these clipped sentences to let everybody know who was in charge.
What it didn’t let on was the fact that exactly this tone, this timbre sent some very delicious shivers up and down Neal’s spine. And when it was paired with a heavy side of barely suppressed arousal, the better, Neal thought to himself with a smile.
“Where’s the fire, Peter?” he asked while turning around, taking in the other man. Oh boy, Peter was exactly where Neal wanted him – on the verge, willing to do everything to him. Good.
“Not here. I have to drive you home nonetheless, so you better be prepared for some listening.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Neal retorted with a mock salute before strutting over to where Peter’s car was parked, making sure to swing his hips to some random rhythm playing in his head.
Before long, Peter pulled into the street next to June’s mansion and further into the recently built carport, made perfectly for occasions like this one.
“So, Peter, you promised me some talking, but I didn’t hear…” Neal couldn’t finish his sentence, mostly due to the fact that Peter crashed his lips to Neal’s in an almost bruising manner. Both of the older man’s hands came up to Neal’s head, burying themselves in the barely tamed dark locks and mussing them up even more.
At some point, breathing became a matter, and they both refilled their lungs with deep gulps of air.
“Get out…” Peter growled, a low, guttural sound that sent all of Neal’s blood straight into his cock (which was already painfully hard, at least halfway due to Peter’s veiled displays of jealousy). Nonetheless, Neal had to come up with a comment.
“You’re quite bossy tonight. I mean, you’re always bossy, but there’s just a bit more to it tonight.”
“Stop whining and get out,” Peter gave back, again with a light growl at the end while getting out of the car himself. Not willing to chance anything, Neal followed suit, heading into the house with Peter through the side entrance.
For once, it was a good thing that June was out of town, visiting relatives and old friends in New Orleans and Baton Rouge. Sure, she wouldn’t mind them expressing their feelings in every possible way, but both Neal and Peter still had some appearances to keep up – which you couldn’t if you got caught with your pants down, literally.
Instead of taking the stairs up to Neal’s apartment, he led Peter over to the service elevator. He just managed to send them off to their destination before Peter attacked and trapped Neal between the wood panel and his body. Their crotches collided, causing them both to groan upon feeling the hardness hidden behind only a layer of cloth. Neal couldn’t help but roll his hips forward, pressing his erection further into where Peter’s hip met his thigh.
Peter’s retaliation was to catch both of Neal’s hands and trap them over his head before leaning in, close to Neal’s ear.
“Your ass is mine tonight,” he whispered so low that Neal had to strain his ears to catch it.
“I… I was hoping for that,” Neal retorted, his usual speech pattern disturbed by his efforts to keep control of his neither regions.
Before Peter could come with any response, they were up on Neal’s floor, entering the younger man’s apartment through the terrace doors. In some kind of anticipation, June had asked Mozzie to accompany her on her trip, making sure that Neal and Peter were undisturbed.
As part of his usual post-case ritual, Neal started to go over to his wine rack – only to be stopped by Peter’s hand on his arm.
“You can have a glass afterwards, but for now, you’re at my mercy.”
While speaking, Peter continued to back them up to the small table. Once there, Neal laid back, pulling Peter with him just by grabbing his tie. For the next few minutes, they kissed like there was no tomorrow while letting their hands roam over the other man’s body.
At some point, Neal lost the shirt, followed by the boots, while he only managed to relieve Peter from his tie. With a low growl of frustration, Neal tried to sit up, only to be pushed back on his back.
“Peter… bed… now!”
Again, Neal tried to sit up, but once again, Peter had a different idea. This time, he let Neal sit up, but instead of letting him get up from the table, he put his hands under Neal’s most delicious ass, pulled him close, and walked them over to Neal’s bed, where he dropped the younger man unceremoniously in the middle.
While Neal was busy with catching his breath, Peter made quick work of his suit and shirt, leaving him in only his underwear. Watching him intently, Neal could feel himself getting even harder, ready to burst the seams of the laced front of his leather pants at any given moment.
Once again, Peter trapped Neal’s hands over his head with one of his, while taking his sweet time in loosening the laces. Neal, already bordering on desperation for any kind of touch down there, tried to roll his hips, but Peter stopped him by pressing his hands further back over the edge of the bed.
At last, Neal felt his cock springing free from the confines of the pants, accompanied by a gasp from his lover when Peter noticed that something was missing – namely any kind of underwear on Neal’s body.
“You know that you’re a damn tease, Caffrey,” Peter growled in his ear, right as he closed his free hand around Neal’s erection, causing the man to groan and shudder slightly. Usually, Neal was proud of his stamina (and not one of his lovers ever had reason to complain about it), but if Peter was keeping up this game and pace, he wasn’t bound to last.
Apparently, Neal’s thoughts somehow got transported to Peter, since the man released both Neal’s hands and cock, in order to hunt down some kind of lube.
“Top drawer,” was all Neal had to say.
With a smile that was close to maniacal, Peter returned and locked his lips with Neal’s in a searing kiss before dropping to a hunch and starting to pull the skintight material down the younger man’s legs.
At this point, Neal’s whole body was a giant bundle of nerves. Every single touch, no matter how slightly, left a scorching trail on his skin, setting his senses on fire, leaving him desperate for even more. Neal Caffrey was, for the first time ever, drowning in lust, and Peter Burke was his only savior.
Speaking of Peter: he was taking his sweet time in preparing Neal’s ass, teasing the puckered hole relentlessly, inserting a finger or two and scissoring them every now and then, eliciting some most heavenly sounds from the man beneath him.
Finally, and Neal couldn’t help but answer this with a soft sigh, Peter considered it enough preparation and lathered his own cock in lube, putting on some show for Neal, who watched his actions through hooded eyes.
“You’re ready?”
“Peter, I was born ready. And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not the first guy for me,” Neal answered, his words interrupted by some heavy breathing.
Not wasting any more time, Peter lined his cock up with Neal’s hole, pushing slowly in. Both men couldn’t quite contain the groan, it just felt too good to stop – and yet, Peter all but did it.
“Peter, I’m not some delicate lady you might break. I can take it, and I definitely don’t mind some pain in the mix,” Neal said with a wink while reaching around Peter and grabbing his ass, pulling him closer to his own body, pushing Peter’s cock in to the hilt.
“Damn it, Peter, move, or so God help me!”
Neal knew he sounded downright desperate and was begging, but he couldn’t care less right now. His whole body was strumming with lust, a raw, unbridled fire was spreading out from the depths of his belly, and the only goal on his mind was reaching this most wonderful of all peaks, hopefully with Peter.
“As you wish, Mr. Impatient,” Peter finally answered with a chuckle, before starting to bottom almost all the way out and pushing back in. At first, he went at a slow pace, but soon, he was all but pounding into Neal, alternating between snapping and circling his hips.
Gradually but steady, their sounds got louder the closer they got to their orgasms. Neal felt a familiar warmth spreading in his body, causing every single nerve to tingle in anticipation.
“Peter…”
He wasn’t able to say more, the lust coursing through his body almost too much to take, but Peter understood perfectly what his lover wanted. Slowing down a bit, he once again closed his hand around Neal’s cock, smearing the pre-come all the way down the shaft before resuming his pounding, now synchronizing his hips with his hand.
Beneath him, Neal was thrashing wildly, his head going left and right. And yet, Peter couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than that. Knowing that he was responsible for Neal coming undone, that he could make the younger man losing all his inhibitions, was a most powerful aphrodisiac, which spurned him to snap his hips even faster, losing himself in the first throes of his own approaching orgasm.
Finally, Neal felt his seed surging up his cock, and with one last groan, he covered both their bellies and Peter’s hand in his come. Over the years, Neal had some rather powerful orgasms, but this one here was a league of its own, leaving him breathless and his vision a blinding white for some very long seconds.
Neal’s orgasm triggered Peter’s, the younger man’s hole squeezing his cock in a most delicious way, milking him dry before leaving him boneless. Like Neal, Peter was out of breath, not really used to the powerful force of a full-fledged orgasm, and so he all but collapsed on Neal.
Both men couldn’t help but groan when Peter finally pulled out, laying down next to Neal, his cock still twitching.
“Wow,” was all that he was able to say, his mind racing a mile a minute.
“Wow indeed,” Neal gave back, apparently not faring better in forming coherent sentences than Peter himself.
“Should I get…?”
“Nah, we can have a shower in the morning. Right now, I would love to cuddle with you,” Neal answered, having found his voice after all.
“Neal Caffrey, master thief, world class con man, cuddler,” Peter summed up before obliging Neal’s wishes and pulling the man in his arms for some major post-coital cuddling.
The End
(for us, the boys kept going on all night ;D)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And here's the pic that came to my mind the second I read the prompt:
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-25 05:51 pm (UTC)Because it is epic, awesome, squeeeeeeeeee and so insanely hot, I can't even *flail* Heeeee, oh yeah, just give Neal an excuse to dress up and OF COURSE he will come up with an outfit that will drive Peter insane. The little shit, he knows sooo well how to work his... ASSets :P
You really can't blame Peter that there was no way in hell he was leaving Neal's apartment that night, lol... and yowza, he was perfect in taking everything that he wanted from Neal... and Neal was equally beautiful giving it all to Peter :P The cuddles at the end are the sweetest cherry on top :D ♥
Love this so very much and sorry again for the c-fuck {{{{{HUGS}}}}}
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-25 06:42 pm (UTC)I honestly love the way my mind works sometimes. Though I ditched the initial idea of a not so perfect morning session in the shower...
(no subject)
Date: 2016-09-25 07:15 pm (UTC)Poor boys, they would have left the house very frustrated, LOL :P