Miami, White Collar/Burn Notice, NC-17

[veronicasleeps]

Title: Miami
Author: veronicasleeps 
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey/Michael Weston
Word count: 300
Warnings/Spoilers: PWP, Crossover
Summary: Eh, it's porn. What's to summarize?
Notes: Written for the this prompt in collarkink,
XD.

--

Neal has a thing for playing with fire.

That’s why he’s here, he decides, that’s why he’s fucking a spy that he knows is as high on a most wanted list as he is, though Neal himself, of course is much less dangerous to Michael. Besides, Neal is reformed now, even though he’s playing hide and seek with Peter at the moment, while at the same time scratching this itch.

It gives Neal a thrill, knowing that the hands that stroke his skin can kill him with just a press on his throat, or a twist of his neck. It get’s Neal hot, and makes him breathe heavily and groan when Michael tilts his head back and bites his lips and pushes his tongue in his mouth. Hot wetness and stolen breath make Neal dizzy; make him feel as if he’s losing control of his body.  

He tangles his hands in Michael’s hair and asks for more, begs for more with his body, shifting his legs further apart, pushing up his hips to meet Michael’s, hooking one leg high over Michaels waist, the one with the tracking anklet, and pressing, pushing himself up to meet the hot, heavy body to get more.  

“Come on!” It’s not enough, just pressing against each other and grinding, not enough to come, not enough to satisfy. Every minute, Neal knows, Peter will be here and bring company, bring people to get him back to NYC. “Come on and fuck me, Michael!”

It’s too hot and too fast, sex in Miami, but the burn in his ass and the feeling of flesh catching on rubber is enough to get Neal off, finally, gloriously, and Michael comes apart in climax, just as the door to his shitty loft is thrown open.

“Hands up! FBI!”

It’s Peter.