Dance Partners, White Collar, PG-13
Jan. 8th, 2011 01:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veronicasleepsTitle: Dance Partners
Prompt: Partners
Author: veronicasleeps
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Neal, Peter, Elizabeth
Word count: 300
Contains: alcohol, snuggling, discussions of possible threesomes
Summary: “Do you even know who you’re asking to a dance?”
Notes: I'm not quite sure if I'm happy with this. It has been sitting half-finished on my hard drive since Wednesday, and now I've finished it I can't pinpoint why it feels off to me. Might just be my brain.
Feedback is appreciated.
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“Dance with me,” Neal smiles drunkenly from where he’s sprawled in between Elizabeth and Peter on their living room sofa.
Peter snorts, and pats him on the head. It’s late and together they’ve finished two bottles of supposedly excellent wine after dinner (Peter can’t hold his wine, he’s more of a beer type of person) and he feels pleasantly buzzed, enough to be amused by the slight whiny tone of Neal’s voice.
“Do you even know who you’re asking to a dance?” he asks, curling his hand around Elizabeth’s thigh where it is draped over Neal’s leg. “If you want to dance with me, or with my wife?”
“Either,” Neal lets his head fall back on the couch and half-closes his eyes, cheeks flushing a little deeper, and Peter wonders why that is. He’s never seen Neal blush, not even when drunk. “Both.”
But, Peter thinks, that explains it; Neal is not just baring his feelings here. His chances of making an escape are slim as he’s effectively stuck underneath his mostly asleep wife and his upper body is leaning so hard against Peter’s side that he’d simply fall over should Peter stand up.
He tightens the arm that is already almost wrapped around Neal’s shoulders and pulls Neal even closer to his own body, even more off-balance. Neal doesn’t struggle, just moves with Peter. He’s completely pliant under his hands.
“How about you ask us when you’re sober,” Peter cards his hand through Neal’s hair and pulls him up, presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “Then we might have something to talk about.”
When they fall asleep, Peter dreams of wine and music and dancing, and in the morning he wakes up with a crick in his neck and a smile on his face.
The radio is still on.
+
Prompt: Partners
Author: veronicasleeps
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Neal, Peter, Elizabeth
Word count: 300
Contains: alcohol, snuggling, discussions of possible threesomes
Summary: “Do you even know who you’re asking to a dance?”
Notes: I'm not quite sure if I'm happy with this. It has been sitting half-finished on my hard drive since Wednesday, and now I've finished it I can't pinpoint why it feels off to me. Might just be my brain.
Feedback is appreciated.
+
“Dance with me,” Neal smiles drunkenly from where he’s sprawled in between Elizabeth and Peter on their living room sofa.
Peter snorts, and pats him on the head. It’s late and together they’ve finished two bottles of supposedly excellent wine after dinner (Peter can’t hold his wine, he’s more of a beer type of person) and he feels pleasantly buzzed, enough to be amused by the slight whiny tone of Neal’s voice.
“Do you even know who you’re asking to a dance?” he asks, curling his hand around Elizabeth’s thigh where it is draped over Neal’s leg. “If you want to dance with me, or with my wife?”
“Either,” Neal lets his head fall back on the couch and half-closes his eyes, cheeks flushing a little deeper, and Peter wonders why that is. He’s never seen Neal blush, not even when drunk. “Both.”
But, Peter thinks, that explains it; Neal is not just baring his feelings here. His chances of making an escape are slim as he’s effectively stuck underneath his mostly asleep wife and his upper body is leaning so hard against Peter’s side that he’d simply fall over should Peter stand up.
He tightens the arm that is already almost wrapped around Neal’s shoulders and pulls Neal even closer to his own body, even more off-balance. Neal doesn’t struggle, just moves with Peter. He’s completely pliant under his hands.
“How about you ask us when you’re sober,” Peter cards his hand through Neal’s hair and pulls him up, presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “Then we might have something to talk about.”
When they fall asleep, Peter dreams of wine and music and dancing, and in the morning he wakes up with a crick in his neck and a smile on his face.
The radio is still on.
+
