After the World has Changed
Aug. 16th, 2012 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hurinhouseTitle: After the World has Changed
Fandom: White Collar
Author: hurinhouse
Disclaimer: Entirely fiction
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Peter/Neal
Summary: AU - After an apocalypse, Peter and Neal try to cope…
464 words
Spare clothes, rough from lack of washing, stretch across the rocky cave floor. He stands ten feet from the waterfall, staring as it cascades round the bare skin he longs to touch. Just once, Peter dares to hope, before it’s too late. He holds out a dry hand just as Neal opens his eyes, lashes dripping. Neal flinches, but his own fingers inch out from the surrounding spray in cautious reply.
It was the scrap of fabric he’d found that morning that had finally called Peter to action; a crude map to possible civilization, probably inaccurate but more than they’d had since the world changed over a year ago. He'd have liked to believe the months of stamping down the ache with his hand behind a tree was for the sake of Neal's virtue, but Peter knew better. Self-preservation was a compelling motivation. If only it was stronger than lust.
Peter has him arching with just one finger, the cream Neal had concocted for shampoo collected on a leaf beside them. Just a crook in the right direction shows Neal a world he's never known. His hips stutter upward. The intended wisecrack dies as his mouth falls slack with wonder and he grapples for a semblance of control.
Day after day he'd watched Neal pretend the lack of human interaction wasn't slowly swallowing him, that the clever quips and deflecting smiles weren't losing their punch. The fact that Neal just needed him drove Peter quietly insane. He wished he could be so lucky but the fact was, Peter wanted Neal, with every ounce of self-destruction his heart threw at him; had hid the want for years, even as he'd loved his beautiful El. Neal's need would be solved as soon as they found people, as soon as he found a woman to charm. That's when Peter's want would escalate. The dread had been eating at him.
He grabs fistfuls of soft dark hair, holding that slick mouth where he wants it, his tongue making sweet love as his body pushes forward in time to Neal’s desperate moans. He licks shivering skin and grasps surging cock, harsh breaths from them both creating music against the jagged walls.
It’d been almost nineteen weeks according to the scratches Neal dug into his backpack. Nineteen weeks since they’d last run across humans; that time hadn’t been safe enough to show themselves. And now, if the directions were right…
He knew Neal would be a spectacle; eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back as his release splashes over Peter’s hand. His own spills deep, right after Neal’s breathy chant, “Peter.” He needs to hear that broken plea again. And again.
Peter had left the map in his pocket to show him later. Now he'll burn it while Neal sleeps.
Fandom: White Collar
Author: hurinhouse
Disclaimer: Entirely fiction
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Peter/Neal
Summary: AU - After an apocalypse, Peter and Neal try to cope…
464 words
Spare clothes, rough from lack of washing, stretch across the rocky cave floor. He stands ten feet from the waterfall, staring as it cascades round the bare skin he longs to touch. Just once, Peter dares to hope, before it’s too late. He holds out a dry hand just as Neal opens his eyes, lashes dripping. Neal flinches, but his own fingers inch out from the surrounding spray in cautious reply.
It was the scrap of fabric he’d found that morning that had finally called Peter to action; a crude map to possible civilization, probably inaccurate but more than they’d had since the world changed over a year ago. He'd have liked to believe the months of stamping down the ache with his hand behind a tree was for the sake of Neal's virtue, but Peter knew better. Self-preservation was a compelling motivation. If only it was stronger than lust.
Peter has him arching with just one finger, the cream Neal had concocted for shampoo collected on a leaf beside them. Just a crook in the right direction shows Neal a world he's never known. His hips stutter upward. The intended wisecrack dies as his mouth falls slack with wonder and he grapples for a semblance of control.
Day after day he'd watched Neal pretend the lack of human interaction wasn't slowly swallowing him, that the clever quips and deflecting smiles weren't losing their punch. The fact that Neal just needed him drove Peter quietly insane. He wished he could be so lucky but the fact was, Peter wanted Neal, with every ounce of self-destruction his heart threw at him; had hid the want for years, even as he'd loved his beautiful El. Neal's need would be solved as soon as they found people, as soon as he found a woman to charm. That's when Peter's want would escalate. The dread had been eating at him.
He grabs fistfuls of soft dark hair, holding that slick mouth where he wants it, his tongue making sweet love as his body pushes forward in time to Neal’s desperate moans. He licks shivering skin and grasps surging cock, harsh breaths from them both creating music against the jagged walls.
It’d been almost nineteen weeks according to the scratches Neal dug into his backpack. Nineteen weeks since they’d last run across humans; that time hadn’t been safe enough to show themselves. And now, if the directions were right…
He knew Neal would be a spectacle; eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back as his release splashes over Peter’s hand. His own spills deep, right after Neal’s breathy chant, “Peter.” He needs to hear that broken plea again. And again.
Peter had left the map in his pocket to show him later. Now he'll burn it while Neal sleeps.
