veronicasleeps (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
veronicasleeps) wrote2010-09-02 02:35 pm
veronicasleeps) wrote2010-09-02 02:35 pm
Entry tags:
Uniform, White Collar, NC-17,
Title: Uniform (Sunglasses at Night)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
veronicasleeps
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey/Peter Burke
Word count: 1,841
Warnings/Spoilers: role play, bondage, unsafe sex, exhibitionism ; mentions of a future Neal Caffrey disguise.
Summary: The trick to being convincing in any costume, even a badly made one, is being comfortable with oneself, and that's something Neal has down to perfection. Role-playing is actually much like a con.
Notes: Based on this prompt in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
collarkink . Reviews are very much appreciated.
Neal watches Peter shift uncomfortably in the backseat of the parked police car. His arms are cuffed behind his back, police issued steel around his wrists restraining his arms and making it impossible to get free.
Neal breathes easily, deeply. He's preparing mentally for tonight, getting into his mind set for their play and at the same time is building anticipation for both of them.
The trick to being convincing in any costume, even a badly made one, is being comfortable with oneself, and that's something Neal has down to perfection. Role-playing is actually much like a con, he thinks, just one that's meant to trick the body and the mind into a heightened state of arousal, and one that instead of material gain for the con man, brings mutual pleasure. In that, this is intensely rewarding to Neal.
And that they've been waiting for this for almost three days, waiting for the case to end so that Neal could quietly 'borrow' the props, just makes it so much better.
They are parked in a small, dingy alley in a slightly rundown part of the city, that is quiet at this time of evening, but not deserted. There's light in a few windows above them, and a street lamp is directly before them, so the insides of the car are bathed in warm, orange light that makes metal gleam like fire and skin glow as if it's just a vessel for a burning sun, and it, together with his bonds and his incredible gift of submission, Peter into something otherworldly beautiful, in a way that he usually isn't.
A small part of Neal wishes they'd just go home and make slow, burning love in a bed. That's not why they're here though. They're here to play.
And it's time...
+
The sound of the car door opening is loud in Peter's ears. He feels overly sensitive, his whole body is somehow more aware then usual, and he shivers when the cold air from outside hits his overheated skin.
"How does it feel to have been caught, Burke?" And fuck, Neal's voice, dark as the night sky, goes straight to Peter's cock. The words
are almost exactly the ones that Peter'd used when he'd finally caught Neal, it's like a weird kind of reflected deja-vu and it makes this feel more real in a way, and that really turns Peter on so much that his throat feels dried out and he can't answer.
Instead he stares up at Neal's face, unsure of this, because even though he is turned on by this, has been turned on by Neal in this disguise since the case they'd worked the last few days, he hasn't done this kind of play before.
Elizabeth prefers to have sex straight up, no costumes and no accessories, and while the sex with her is great, Peter is coming to realize right now that there's something exquisite about giving up control, something that paints feelings and experiences more vivid and that Peter is sure will stay on his mind for a long time.
He can't see much of Neal's face. His forehead is hidden by the blue police cap, perched on his hair much in the way he usually wears his hats and so excitingly familiar, that it looks as though it belongs there, and a pair of mirrored shades make it impossible for Peter to look into Neal's eyes; he can see himself, though, in the reflection, wide eyed and defenseless, bound by steel and by his own need and hunger for this.
+
Incapable of speech is a good look for Peter, Neal decides, and instead of waiting for an answer to his question, he fists a hand in Peter's hair and tugs him out of the car by it. It takes away Peter's balance, making him lean heavily against Neal, his head pressed against Neal's shoulder in a move that speaks of trust, and while it's not exactly in Character, Neal appreciates it, because it shows him that Peter is not afraid of this, not afraid of him.
Then he pulls himself together again, pulls up the role and the mindset, and he really becomes a police officer. A corrupt one that's got a thing for fucking his suspects, but still a police officer.
He shoves him up against the cold surface of the car, harshly and probably leaving bruises on his chest.
"Widen that stance, Burke." He presses his right knee against the inside of Peter's thigh and pushes outward, he wants to see him struggling to hold that position, likes to see his legs spread and his torso pressed flush against the shiny metal of the police car, his bound arms making his upper body take all his weight so he can't straighten up on his own.
"How does it feel to be out in the open like that?" Neal doesn't expect an answer from Peter anymore. He's too far gone for that already, Neal can see that. "I can fuck you right here, out on the street. The neighborhood here is shady enough so they won't care what I do to you. You could scream."
Neal leans his entire body against Peter from behind. His mouth is next to Peter's left ear, breathing heavily into it, and his voice doesn't have to be loud for Peter to understand him. He whispers, and Peter shivers from the sensation of warm air caressing his ear, and maybe just from the sensual sound of Neal's voice, deceptively soft and still strong enough to reinforce the role he's playing.
"You could scream loudly, and maybe someone would come." He can feel Peter try to move underneath him, but he hasn't got the space for that, and not the leverage, so it's just restless shifting. Neal just let's more of his weight push down on Peter, and that move forces his bound wrists right onto Neal's cloth covered cock. "Maybe someone would come," Neal groans out, grinding slightly onto the hands. "but they wouldn't help you. No, they would stand there and watch me fuck you."
He bites slowly down on the soft flesh of Peter's throat, first so softly that he's sure that he can barely feel it, and then harder, until Peter bucks from the sharp pain.
+
His head reeling from the onslaught of feelings, his mind kind of hazy, he is surprised by Neal's hands on his trousers, unfastening them. The sensation of scratchy wool sliding down his legs makes Peter groan, and his cock surge into the cold night air.
It feels exhilarating, being naked from the waist down while anybody could just look out of their window and discover him, but Peter is too far gone to worry about that. The difference in temperature, the air and the car freezing against the overheated skin of his cock, make him almost pass out when his cock head is pressed against the car door suddenly. Neal's hand spread him open, tilt his hips up so that his ass hole is exposed and Peter feels himself blush.
Then there's a tongue on his skin, shockingly slick and it presses into his hole in a single stroke of wetness, and it's too much for Peter, who groans out his orgasm, shuddering and shivering when Neal just keeps on licking him there, the sensation to much for his over sensitized body.
Boneless, he sags down. Peter's knees give out and he can hear Neal laugh, catching him before he hits the hard asphalt.
+
Neal opens the car door and sits down on the driver's seat, pushed back as far as it goes and the backrest slightly lowered, and he manipulates the slumped, pliant form of his lover onto his lap.
He's got three slick fingers up his ass, pushing in and out and grazing his prostate just a little bit. Peter moans weakly and he's not really aware of what's going on, but he helps, lifting his hips up when Neal's hands frame them, thumbs at his pelvic bones making finger tip shaped bruises, and semi closed eyes flow open when he feels the press of Neal's cock against his ass hole.
It's a slow fuck, skin catching on skin, and thighs trembling and it's intimate even though they're exposed. Peter's face is open and his head is thrown back in overwhelming pleasure, but the shadows are dark and Neal can't really see all the details, can't make out all those little expressions that flitter over Peter's face when he's caught like this in the moment, so he takes off his glasses and pulls the sun glasses off that he's still wearing, slowly peeling back the layer's of the costume and becoming a little more Neal again.
He smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes and he pulls Peter's head down and kisses him deeply, a wet, lewd, open kiss that is more licking than anything else. When he needs to catch a breath he tugs on Peter's hair and nibbles his throat before he takes the glasses and places them on Peter's nose.
They slide down on the sweat slicked skin, and perch precariously low. "I want you to keep them there. Don't lose them," Neal whispers,"or you won't like the consequences."
He fucks Peter faster now, fucks him harder; the car is filled with the noise of flesh hitting flesh and the quiet squelching sound that a well fucked ass makes, slick with lubrication and with precum.
+
Peter's entire body moves with Neal's thrusts. He is trying to keep his head still, to keep the glasses on, but every time Neal's cock hits his prostate, his entire body jerks and he can feel them slip lower.
The harder Neal fucks him, the nearer Peter comes his orgasm.
He fights the instinctive moves of his body, that want him to ram himself down onto Neal's cock, but he can't control it, his body is moving without his permission and he's lost in the feeling of his orgasm rushing through him, his own cock jerking and spilling cum all over the uniform shirt that Neal is wearing, milky white over dark blue, and his body slumps down a second time as soon as he can feel the slickness of Neal's come in his ass.
No energy left at all anymore, he falls back against the steering wheel, not even caring that the ear splitting noise of the car horn cuts through the night, probably waking up the entire block.
With Neal's help he climbs -or rather falls- down to the side from Neal's lap, sinking down in the passenger seat, staining the leather with a mixture of cum and lube and sweat, a fact that he doesn't feel bad about at all.
The glasses are still on his nose, but there are drops of liquid on them. Probably sweat, Peter thinks, to fucked out to form coherent thoughts, cum doesn't spray that far.
Author:
veronicasleeps Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey/Peter Burke
Word count: 1,841
Warnings/Spoilers: role play, bondage, unsafe sex, exhibitionism ; mentions of a future Neal Caffrey disguise.
Summary: The trick to being convincing in any costume, even a badly made one, is being comfortable with oneself, and that's something Neal has down to perfection. Role-playing is actually much like a con.
Notes: Based on this prompt in
collarkink . Reviews are very much appreciated.Neal watches Peter shift uncomfortably in the backseat of the parked police car. His arms are cuffed behind his back, police issued steel around his wrists restraining his arms and making it impossible to get free.
Neal breathes easily, deeply. He's preparing mentally for tonight, getting into his mind set for their play and at the same time is building anticipation for both of them.
The trick to being convincing in any costume, even a badly made one, is being comfortable with oneself, and that's something Neal has down to perfection. Role-playing is actually much like a con, he thinks, just one that's meant to trick the body and the mind into a heightened state of arousal, and one that instead of material gain for the con man, brings mutual pleasure. In that, this is intensely rewarding to Neal.
And that they've been waiting for this for almost three days, waiting for the case to end so that Neal could quietly 'borrow' the props, just makes it so much better.
They are parked in a small, dingy alley in a slightly rundown part of the city, that is quiet at this time of evening, but not deserted. There's light in a few windows above them, and a street lamp is directly before them, so the insides of the car are bathed in warm, orange light that makes metal gleam like fire and skin glow as if it's just a vessel for a burning sun, and it, together with his bonds and his incredible gift of submission, Peter into something otherworldly beautiful, in a way that he usually isn't.
A small part of Neal wishes they'd just go home and make slow, burning love in a bed. That's not why they're here though. They're here to play.
And it's time...
+
The sound of the car door opening is loud in Peter's ears. He feels overly sensitive, his whole body is somehow more aware then usual, and he shivers when the cold air from outside hits his overheated skin.
"How does it feel to have been caught, Burke?" And fuck, Neal's voice, dark as the night sky, goes straight to Peter's cock. The words
are almost exactly the ones that Peter'd used when he'd finally caught Neal, it's like a weird kind of reflected deja-vu and it makes this feel more real in a way, and that really turns Peter on so much that his throat feels dried out and he can't answer.
Instead he stares up at Neal's face, unsure of this, because even though he is turned on by this, has been turned on by Neal in this disguise since the case they'd worked the last few days, he hasn't done this kind of play before.
Elizabeth prefers to have sex straight up, no costumes and no accessories, and while the sex with her is great, Peter is coming to realize right now that there's something exquisite about giving up control, something that paints feelings and experiences more vivid and that Peter is sure will stay on his mind for a long time.
He can't see much of Neal's face. His forehead is hidden by the blue police cap, perched on his hair much in the way he usually wears his hats and so excitingly familiar, that it looks as though it belongs there, and a pair of mirrored shades make it impossible for Peter to look into Neal's eyes; he can see himself, though, in the reflection, wide eyed and defenseless, bound by steel and by his own need and hunger for this.
+
Incapable of speech is a good look for Peter, Neal decides, and instead of waiting for an answer to his question, he fists a hand in Peter's hair and tugs him out of the car by it. It takes away Peter's balance, making him lean heavily against Neal, his head pressed against Neal's shoulder in a move that speaks of trust, and while it's not exactly in Character, Neal appreciates it, because it shows him that Peter is not afraid of this, not afraid of him.
Then he pulls himself together again, pulls up the role and the mindset, and he really becomes a police officer. A corrupt one that's got a thing for fucking his suspects, but still a police officer.
He shoves him up against the cold surface of the car, harshly and probably leaving bruises on his chest.
"Widen that stance, Burke." He presses his right knee against the inside of Peter's thigh and pushes outward, he wants to see him struggling to hold that position, likes to see his legs spread and his torso pressed flush against the shiny metal of the police car, his bound arms making his upper body take all his weight so he can't straighten up on his own.
"How does it feel to be out in the open like that?" Neal doesn't expect an answer from Peter anymore. He's too far gone for that already, Neal can see that. "I can fuck you right here, out on the street. The neighborhood here is shady enough so they won't care what I do to you. You could scream."
Neal leans his entire body against Peter from behind. His mouth is next to Peter's left ear, breathing heavily into it, and his voice doesn't have to be loud for Peter to understand him. He whispers, and Peter shivers from the sensation of warm air caressing his ear, and maybe just from the sensual sound of Neal's voice, deceptively soft and still strong enough to reinforce the role he's playing.
"You could scream loudly, and maybe someone would come." He can feel Peter try to move underneath him, but he hasn't got the space for that, and not the leverage, so it's just restless shifting. Neal just let's more of his weight push down on Peter, and that move forces his bound wrists right onto Neal's cloth covered cock. "Maybe someone would come," Neal groans out, grinding slightly onto the hands. "but they wouldn't help you. No, they would stand there and watch me fuck you."
He bites slowly down on the soft flesh of Peter's throat, first so softly that he's sure that he can barely feel it, and then harder, until Peter bucks from the sharp pain.
+
His head reeling from the onslaught of feelings, his mind kind of hazy, he is surprised by Neal's hands on his trousers, unfastening them. The sensation of scratchy wool sliding down his legs makes Peter groan, and his cock surge into the cold night air.
It feels exhilarating, being naked from the waist down while anybody could just look out of their window and discover him, but Peter is too far gone to worry about that. The difference in temperature, the air and the car freezing against the overheated skin of his cock, make him almost pass out when his cock head is pressed against the car door suddenly. Neal's hand spread him open, tilt his hips up so that his ass hole is exposed and Peter feels himself blush.
Then there's a tongue on his skin, shockingly slick and it presses into his hole in a single stroke of wetness, and it's too much for Peter, who groans out his orgasm, shuddering and shivering when Neal just keeps on licking him there, the sensation to much for his over sensitized body.
Boneless, he sags down. Peter's knees give out and he can hear Neal laugh, catching him before he hits the hard asphalt.
+
Neal opens the car door and sits down on the driver's seat, pushed back as far as it goes and the backrest slightly lowered, and he manipulates the slumped, pliant form of his lover onto his lap.
He's got three slick fingers up his ass, pushing in and out and grazing his prostate just a little bit. Peter moans weakly and he's not really aware of what's going on, but he helps, lifting his hips up when Neal's hands frame them, thumbs at his pelvic bones making finger tip shaped bruises, and semi closed eyes flow open when he feels the press of Neal's cock against his ass hole.
It's a slow fuck, skin catching on skin, and thighs trembling and it's intimate even though they're exposed. Peter's face is open and his head is thrown back in overwhelming pleasure, but the shadows are dark and Neal can't really see all the details, can't make out all those little expressions that flitter over Peter's face when he's caught like this in the moment, so he takes off his glasses and pulls the sun glasses off that he's still wearing, slowly peeling back the layer's of the costume and becoming a little more Neal again.
He smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes and he pulls Peter's head down and kisses him deeply, a wet, lewd, open kiss that is more licking than anything else. When he needs to catch a breath he tugs on Peter's hair and nibbles his throat before he takes the glasses and places them on Peter's nose.
They slide down on the sweat slicked skin, and perch precariously low. "I want you to keep them there. Don't lose them," Neal whispers,"or you won't like the consequences."
He fucks Peter faster now, fucks him harder; the car is filled with the noise of flesh hitting flesh and the quiet squelching sound that a well fucked ass makes, slick with lubrication and with precum.
+
Peter's entire body moves with Neal's thrusts. He is trying to keep his head still, to keep the glasses on, but every time Neal's cock hits his prostate, his entire body jerks and he can feel them slip lower.
The harder Neal fucks him, the nearer Peter comes his orgasm.
He fights the instinctive moves of his body, that want him to ram himself down onto Neal's cock, but he can't control it, his body is moving without his permission and he's lost in the feeling of his orgasm rushing through him, his own cock jerking and spilling cum all over the uniform shirt that Neal is wearing, milky white over dark blue, and his body slumps down a second time as soon as he can feel the slickness of Neal's come in his ass.
No energy left at all anymore, he falls back against the steering wheel, not even caring that the ear splitting noise of the car horn cuts through the night, probably waking up the entire block.
With Neal's help he climbs -or rather falls- down to the side from Neal's lap, sinking down in the passenger seat, staining the leather with a mixture of cum and lube and sweat, a fact that he doesn't feel bad about at all.
The glasses are still on his nose, but there are drops of liquid on them. Probably sweat, Peter thinks, to fucked out to form coherent thoughts, cum doesn't spray that far.