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asimaiyatTitle: "That Time"
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: Neal/Peter
Rating: R; basically porn about kissing again.
Summary: Hey, remember that time when we decided to kiss anywhere except the mouth? -- Regina Spektor, "That Time"
AN: Written as a thank-you toelrhiarhodan
It had sounded kind of pointless to Peter at first, but Neal had pushed the idea, first with a lot of airy words like "sensual" and "intimate" and "exploring," and then just with his mouth, kissing down Peter's jawline and across his collarbone before Peter could have stopped him if he'd wanted to.
Neal's lips were soft, of course, even silky, but his kisses were firm and decisive, each placed at some precisely chosen place where muscles and tendons and creased skin joined together, some spot that met whatever obscure criteria he pleased. He unbuttoned Peter's shirt as he went, shimmying down the bed to position himself better before applying those lips -- and, just a bit, those teeth -- to the hollow of his throat, the intent between his pectorals, and, experimentally, his right nipple.
Maybe two can play at this game, Peter thought wryly, and grabbed Neal's hand, lifting it to his own mouth to kiss the pressure point of his wrist and trace the veins up his forearm with his lips and the tip of his tongue, drawing the softest little gasping breaths from Neal's busy mouth. He bit down just barely at the crease of Neal's elbow -- not an area he'd ever thought of before as erotic, but there was maybe something there in the faintly musky smell of him, the intersection of veins under the pale, fragile-looking skin -- and the gasp turned into a not-quite-full-throated moan, Neal's whole body shuddering a little over him.
Well, it had been a fun game, for about five minutes. Peter couldn't suppress a little growl as he flipped the two of them to hold Neal down and bring their mouths together all at once, teeth grazing the corner of his lips, tongue claiming (and yes, exploring) every inch of the inside of his mouth.
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: Neal/Peter
Rating: R; basically porn about kissing again.
Summary: Hey, remember that time when we decided to kiss anywhere except the mouth? -- Regina Spektor, "That Time"
AN: Written as a thank-you to
elrhiarhodanIt had sounded kind of pointless to Peter at first, but Neal had pushed the idea, first with a lot of airy words like "sensual" and "intimate" and "exploring," and then just with his mouth, kissing down Peter's jawline and across his collarbone before Peter could have stopped him if he'd wanted to.
Neal's lips were soft, of course, even silky, but his kisses were firm and decisive, each placed at some precisely chosen place where muscles and tendons and creased skin joined together, some spot that met whatever obscure criteria he pleased. He unbuttoned Peter's shirt as he went, shimmying down the bed to position himself better before applying those lips -- and, just a bit, those teeth -- to the hollow of his throat, the intent between his pectorals, and, experimentally, his right nipple.
Maybe two can play at this game, Peter thought wryly, and grabbed Neal's hand, lifting it to his own mouth to kiss the pressure point of his wrist and trace the veins up his forearm with his lips and the tip of his tongue, drawing the softest little gasping breaths from Neal's busy mouth. He bit down just barely at the crease of Neal's elbow -- not an area he'd ever thought of before as erotic, but there was maybe something there in the faintly musky smell of him, the intersection of veins under the pale, fragile-looking skin -- and the gasp turned into a not-quite-full-throated moan, Neal's whole body shuddering a little over him.
Well, it had been a fun game, for about five minutes. Peter couldn't suppress a little growl as he flipped the two of them to hold Neal down and bring their mouths together all at once, teeth grazing the corner of his lips, tongue claiming (and yes, exploring) every inch of the inside of his mouth.