hurinhouse (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hurinhouse) wrote2015-03-13 10:23 pm
hurinhouse) wrote2015-03-13 10:23 pm
Chivalry Has No Place in This Home
Title: Chivalry Has No Place in This Home
Author: hurinhouse
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters: Elizabeth/Neal/ (Peter)
Summary: Elizabeth learns the pros and cons of living in an old townhouse
Disclaimer: Entirely fiction
Word Count: 927
Notes: WS, but it's tame and cute and sexy- no liquids touching the body, no humiliation - just a little bit of domestic confusion/annoyance
Notes: For Elrhiarhodan's Promptfest IX for the prompt: Elizabeth - Retaliate
It wasn't until they'd been seeing him for six weeks that Elizabeth learned Neal Caffrey can be as base as any man, given the situation; and how hot that baseness looks on him.
* * * * *
The knock on the door is soft, but carries an urgent quality. She's not surprised; she knew it might happen one of these days, and especially this morning since they'd both had a lot to drink last night. Peter had abstained, already at his 7am meeting.
"Will you be much longer?" She loves his voice in the morning - hoarse from sleep, sexier than normal - another thing she's learned about him these past few weeks.
"Yeah, I'll be a while."
She could let him in for a minute and go do something else. But she's not going to. She's sick of it. She and Peter have learned a loose schedule over the last decade that just plain works. Neal hasn't had that chance. He's not accustomed to sharing a bathroom and her attempts to coordinate with him have been met with polite chivalry. He never complains. He just waits, because that's the gentlemanly thing to do.
But that's not how people live together on a daily basis and the sooner he learns that, the better off they'll all be. Especially Elizabeth. She's tired of feeling guilty and leaving the bathroom when she assumes he's waiting, pretending she was done anyway and going back later. He's not a guest and he needs to be integrated into the rhythm she and Peter have developed instead of the three of them dancing around each other. Peter's solution would be to build a second bathroom; after all, lots of those new homes in suburbs have more than one. Instead, El thinks it's time to teach Neal a lesson. So yeah - access denied.
But she doesn't hear a reply.
"Neal? Did you hear me?"
"Yeah, just grabbing some clothes."
Okay, whatever. She sits down on the toilet. Then she gets the meaning behind his words.
"Neal!"
"Yeah?" His voice is farther away, he was headed toward the stairs.
"You'd better not be going outside."
"Why not?"
"Just wait till I'm done."
"Sorry, about to burst, gotta go-"
"Neal no! We have neighbors!"
"Fine."
She jolts when the door opens. He walks right into the bathroom while she's sitting on the toilet, dropping a pair of silk sleep pants on the tile. In the split second before her outrage registers, she notices how adorably sexy he looks.
"What are you doing? Get out of here!"
She realizes she'd been waiting to actually pee till he went away - she didn't want him listening. And now he's standing right between her naked legs.
"You said su inodoro es mi inodoro." His words are slurred from sleep and he pulls his half-hard cock out of his briefs.
"Not at the same time!"
"Sorry."
"Let me get up."
"Can't wait."
"Oh my God. Don't you dare get any of it on me!"
He points between her legs, evoking her gasp and she backs up, widening the V.
There's not even a pause before he shoots. Her head tilts down at an angle without her consciously directing it. She cannot believe they're doing this. She watches the onslaught hit the water, ripples fanning out.
The deluge rushing between her legs induces her own flow, first a trickle, then a waterfall. The two streams hit like a garden hose fight; she's not sure how none of it splashes onto her.
"Can't see."
Soft, strong fingers slip into her hair, gently caressing her scalp and she lifts her head out of his way. His cock is right in front of her, his other hand holding it. She moves her eyes up his body, takes in the creases from the sheets on his chest, the complex terrain of his stubble. His hair is a hot mess, waves falling all over the place, in his eyes, over his ears, curling up at his neck. It's so perfectly chaotic that she'd suspect him of artfully mussing it but his half-mast eyes prove he's just woken. And then he closes them, his face relaxing in what she can only assume is relief, the flood raging on.
She's forty and she's never done anything this intimate before, certainly never with Peter, and suddenly all their years together seem ordinary. Sure they've experimented, sexually; but she never would have considered anything more than a vibrator or melted chocolate until Neal oozed into their lives. Now she has thoughts of pegging him, of watching Peter tie him up. Peter wouldn't realize how much he loved it till he was too far gone.
But none of those fantasies compare to this moment. So illicit and organic. She feels exposed. And grateful. This is like a gift, to see him in such a raw state, to give him hers. It's not even about sex, but it's right there...
She reaches out, runs a finger down his cock and his eyes pop open.
"'Lisbeth... not a good idea."
If she's going to suffer, so is he. He started this, after all.
"Just want to help, Baby." She slides her palm around him.
"Wait," he groans. He's getting frustrated, his newly swelling cock causing his flow to stutter, making her think of other things they can share.
"Sorry, can't wait." Retaliation and all that.
She makes a mental note to send a text to Peter. She's pretty sure the adult novelty store is on his way home. Time to expand on this newly found intimacy.
Author: hurinhouse
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters: Elizabeth/Neal/ (Peter)
Summary: Elizabeth learns the pros and cons of living in an old townhouse
Disclaimer: Entirely fiction
Word Count: 927
Notes: WS, but it's tame and cute and sexy- no liquids touching the body, no humiliation - just a little bit of domestic confusion/annoyance
Notes: For Elrhiarhodan's Promptfest IX for the prompt: Elizabeth - Retaliate
It wasn't until they'd been seeing him for six weeks that Elizabeth learned Neal Caffrey can be as base as any man, given the situation; and how hot that baseness looks on him.
* * * * *
The knock on the door is soft, but carries an urgent quality. She's not surprised; she knew it might happen one of these days, and especially this morning since they'd both had a lot to drink last night. Peter had abstained, already at his 7am meeting.
"Will you be much longer?" She loves his voice in the morning - hoarse from sleep, sexier than normal - another thing she's learned about him these past few weeks.
"Yeah, I'll be a while."
She could let him in for a minute and go do something else. But she's not going to. She's sick of it. She and Peter have learned a loose schedule over the last decade that just plain works. Neal hasn't had that chance. He's not accustomed to sharing a bathroom and her attempts to coordinate with him have been met with polite chivalry. He never complains. He just waits, because that's the gentlemanly thing to do.
But that's not how people live together on a daily basis and the sooner he learns that, the better off they'll all be. Especially Elizabeth. She's tired of feeling guilty and leaving the bathroom when she assumes he's waiting, pretending she was done anyway and going back later. He's not a guest and he needs to be integrated into the rhythm she and Peter have developed instead of the three of them dancing around each other. Peter's solution would be to build a second bathroom; after all, lots of those new homes in suburbs have more than one. Instead, El thinks it's time to teach Neal a lesson. So yeah - access denied.
But she doesn't hear a reply.
"Neal? Did you hear me?"
"Yeah, just grabbing some clothes."
Okay, whatever. She sits down on the toilet. Then she gets the meaning behind his words.
"Neal!"
"Yeah?" His voice is farther away, he was headed toward the stairs.
"You'd better not be going outside."
"Why not?"
"Just wait till I'm done."
"Sorry, about to burst, gotta go-"
"Neal no! We have neighbors!"
"Fine."
She jolts when the door opens. He walks right into the bathroom while she's sitting on the toilet, dropping a pair of silk sleep pants on the tile. In the split second before her outrage registers, she notices how adorably sexy he looks.
"What are you doing? Get out of here!"
She realizes she'd been waiting to actually pee till he went away - she didn't want him listening. And now he's standing right between her naked legs.
"You said su inodoro es mi inodoro." His words are slurred from sleep and he pulls his half-hard cock out of his briefs.
"Not at the same time!"
"Sorry."
"Let me get up."
"Can't wait."
"Oh my God. Don't you dare get any of it on me!"
He points between her legs, evoking her gasp and she backs up, widening the V.
There's not even a pause before he shoots. Her head tilts down at an angle without her consciously directing it. She cannot believe they're doing this. She watches the onslaught hit the water, ripples fanning out.
The deluge rushing between her legs induces her own flow, first a trickle, then a waterfall. The two streams hit like a garden hose fight; she's not sure how none of it splashes onto her.
"Can't see."
Soft, strong fingers slip into her hair, gently caressing her scalp and she lifts her head out of his way. His cock is right in front of her, his other hand holding it. She moves her eyes up his body, takes in the creases from the sheets on his chest, the complex terrain of his stubble. His hair is a hot mess, waves falling all over the place, in his eyes, over his ears, curling up at his neck. It's so perfectly chaotic that she'd suspect him of artfully mussing it but his half-mast eyes prove he's just woken. And then he closes them, his face relaxing in what she can only assume is relief, the flood raging on.
She's forty and she's never done anything this intimate before, certainly never with Peter, and suddenly all their years together seem ordinary. Sure they've experimented, sexually; but she never would have considered anything more than a vibrator or melted chocolate until Neal oozed into their lives. Now she has thoughts of pegging him, of watching Peter tie him up. Peter wouldn't realize how much he loved it till he was too far gone.
But none of those fantasies compare to this moment. So illicit and organic. She feels exposed. And grateful. This is like a gift, to see him in such a raw state, to give him hers. It's not even about sex, but it's right there...
She reaches out, runs a finger down his cock and his eyes pop open.
"'Lisbeth... not a good idea."
If she's going to suffer, so is he. He started this, after all.
"Just want to help, Baby." She slides her palm around him.
"Wait," he groans. He's getting frustrated, his newly swelling cock causing his flow to stutter, making her think of other things they can share.
"Sorry, can't wait." Retaliation and all that.
She makes a mental note to send a text to Peter. She's pretty sure the adult novelty store is on his way home. Time to expand on this newly found intimacy.