elrhiarhodan | White Collar RPF (And Fic)

Title: Mr_Satchmo Writes Peter/Neal Porn
Author: lj user=Elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17 (for the interior fic)
Characters: Tim DeKay, Matt Bomer; (in the fic - Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey; Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey)
Spoilers/Episode References: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: RPF with FanFic; Foot!Porn; Private Sexual Acts in Public Places, Condoms, Blackmail; Banter; Misplaced iPhones, LJ Usernames; extreme abuse of the W/E/T line.
Word Count: ~3100
Summary: Tim has a hobby that he shares only with his on-line friends.

__________________

Tim’s in his dressing room, enjoying a rare long mid-day break from shooting. He’s got about two hours before he has to head back on set. He’s called Elisa, he’s spoken with the kids, and even though he was just home, he misses his family. They make life worth living.

He knows he should just relax, take a nap, catch up on some sleep - they were up until 1 am with a night shoot in Midtown. Not an unusual circumstance, but coupled with an early call this morning, it left him with just four hours. He know, thought, that if he does sleep, it will leave him groggy. Not the best state for the intensely emotional scenes he’s got with Matty tonight.

Then he smiles. He knows what to do to pass the time. He takes out the little netbook he keeps in his travel bag and goes right into Gmail. He’s got a ficlet almost ready for posting, and it should drive the fan girls crazy. He hopes his beta has finished her review – it’s a short piece, but he still had some questions about it.

There’s a bunch of messages in his inbox, including one from Nonconcon with an attachment. They had hooked up over one of her stories a few weeks ago – a piece of Peter/Neal schmoop that had some surprisingly strong character insights. They had even IM’d via Google chat a few times, mostly very late at night, when Tim can’t sleep. Nonconcon’s profile puts her in Southern California – which would explain why she’s awake and alert at 1 am, NY time.

As he opens the attachment and scans through the comments his beta reader left, Tim grins. If she only knew...

Title: Under the Covers [NCC Comment – Your title is a little too generic. Can you come with something a little jazzier?] No One Will Ever Know
Author: lj user=Mr_Satchmo
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey; Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey
Spoilers/Episode References: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Foot!Porn, Private Sexual Acts in Public Places
Word Count: ~1500
Summary: Neal gets frisky during lunch; Peter turns the tables on him. [NCC Comment – Great summary – can’t wait to read this!]
Beta Credit – lj user=Nonconcon. All mistakes are mine. And yeah, own nothing.

Tim thinks she’s right about the title – he had only intended it as a placeholder, but he couldn’t think of anything better. What about “Heart and Sole”? Nah - too clichéd, too cracky. He’ll just have to come back to it after reviewing the rest of NCC’s comments.

“You are a real little shit, you know that?” Peter’s voice is a harsh whisper.

Neal grins at him and says nothing; he just keeps working his sock clad toes against his crotch.

“What are you, sixteen?” Peter will be damned if he letting Neal get away with this, again. The last time Neal tried to bring him off in public, he completely lost control. The waitstaff thought he was having an epileptic fit. They haven’t been back to that restaurant since.

This time, though. This time, he’s going to show Neal just who was in control.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like that scene from Flash Dance?” Neal’s lips are curved in a smirk, and Peter longs to wipe it off his face.

Peter’s eyes narrow, and he can’t help himself. He holds onto Neal’s ankle and grinds his cock into the sole of Neal’s foot, using the tracker as leverage and pushes hard.

Neal does his best to bring him off, working his toes and heel against the root and shaft. [NCC Comment – YUM!!!!]

But Peter isn’t going to let Neal get the best of him today. He prides himself on his control, and as pleasurable as the warm, hard foot is against his cock, there is no way he’s going to spend the rest of the day in soggy, come-stained trousers. That would be just too embarrassing. [NCC Comment – Great visual!]

“You know, I should throw your ass back in jail.”

Neal reduces the pressure, just a little. “You’d throw me back in prison because I made you come in your pants? How petty can you get?”

“Very petty - because had I known you’d want to play footsie during lunch, I’d have worn my ‘Let’s Catch Caffrey’ suit.” That one was navy, and the pants were rather generously cut in front - they’ve disguised more erections than even Neal could guess.

Tim snickers…oh the things they could get away with if only they were on Showtime. The next bit was some of his favorite dialogue. He hopes his beta thinks so too. They’ve been rather simpatico from the beginning.

“I don’t know if I’d really want to put my foot on that. It’s a polyester blend, right? And the pants - pleated front. Ugh. Not really your best look.” Neal reapplies the pressure, stroking up and down Peter’s massively erect dick with his very talented toes. [NCC Comment – LOVE PETER’S MASSIVELY ERECT DICK. There can never be enough of Peter’s Massively Erect Dick in WC fandom.]

Tim looks down at his dick, which seemed to have chubbed up in reaction to the compliment. Yeah…I agree.

Peter smiles as an idea blossoms.

“Give me your wallet.”

“What?” Neal’s startled enough that he stops stroking. Peter grabs the anklet and holds fast.

“Don’t be such a wuss, Caffrey. Give me your wallet.” [NCC Comment – Would Peter really call Neal a wuss?]

Tim thinks for a moment. “Wuss” does seems a little immature for Peter Burke. “Baby” maybe? Then he gets it, and starts deleting and retyping.

~~“Don’t be such a wuss, Caffrey. Give me your wallet.”~~ Peter just looks at Neal, one eyebrow cocked and holds out a hand. He knows it doesn’t take much to get Neal to comply.

And without a word of protest,Neal hands it to him. Peter ignores the rack of credit cards - he knows that most of them aren’t in Neal’s name. This is something they’ll deal with another time. Maybe with Neal’s bare ass over his lap. [NCC Comment – Whee! Can we get spankies in this fic too?] There’s also an assload of cash in there. Peter looks at Neal ~~and raises an eyebrow~~. Neal says nothing. It’s not the cash he wants either, but he’s curious why there’s so much there. That’s another conversation for another day.

Peter tucks two fingers into the inside compartment , ~~and~~ pulls out a foil package, and tosses Neal’s wallet back to him. “I haven’t gotten a chance since yesterday to replace the one in my wallet.”

“Ummm, Peter….what are you going to do with that?”

“What do you think, Einstein?” [NCC Comment – Love it, so very “Peter” to call Neal “Einstein” – you have the best sense of Peter’s voice I’ve ever read.]

“You’re going to put it on here?” [NCC Comment – Would Peter REALLY whip it out and put on a condom in public?

Tim thinks about that for a second. HELL YEAH HE WOULD.

“We’re in a corner booth, there’s a table cloth - what more do you want?”

Neal’s looks appalled and he struggles to free his foot. Peter’s delighted. It’s amazing how quickly he can turn the tables on Neal. He lets go, but Neal’s foot doesn’t return to the floor.

“Tell you what, Neal - if you can bring me off before they bring us our lunch orders, I’ll buy you the set of sable brushes you were drooling over this morning.” [NCC Comment – That seems off. Why would Peter even think of bribing Neal with art supplies – clearly from the contents of his wallet, Neal can afford to buy anything he wants.]

Tim actually feels himself blushing – of course that’s a stupid line. He’s trying to make this a contest, not make Neal into a whore. But he likes a lot of this dialogue

“Tell you what, Neal - if you can bring me off before they bring us our lunch orders, I’ll buy you ~~the set of sable brushes you were drooling over this morning.”~~ that custom-made stainless steel dildo you and El were talking about, and I’ll even let you use it on me.” Peter unzips his pants, drags out his aching cock (the open air felt good), rips open the condom package, sheathes his dick and tucks himself backing into his pants in less then a minute.

“I can buy my own damn ~~art supplies~~ sex toys.” Neal mutters and watches him like a bird watches a snake, and his eyes keep darting around, hoping that no one’s able to overhear them.

“Then what can I entice you with? You seem to have gotten rather shy, or don’t you like it when the shoe’s on the other foot?” Peter snickers at his own witticism.

“I really don’t need any enticements, but I’d rather not have to explain to your boss why we both were arrested for public indecency.”

“You started it.”

“And you escalated.” [NCC Comments – Love the powerplay here!]

Peter grins - sometimes their banter is as arousing as a physical touch.

Neal’s foot finds its way back into Peter’s crotch, and Peter again yanks on the anklet, pulling him just a little closer. [NCC Comment – Dom!Peter is Dom. Need to hit my bunk.]

Peter forces Neal to use his whole foot, massaging his cock and balls.

He spots the waiter with their food at the same time that Neal does, and he keeps a grip on Neal’s ankle while the server sets their meal down.

Neal makes an innocuous comment about the number of olives on his Greek salad and Peter humps himself a little, enjoying the blush that stains Neal’s cheeks. The server departs, not before giving them both a curious look.

Neal tries to pull his foot away and concentrate on his meal.

“You know, Neal, you should never start something that you’re not prepared to finish.”

Peter picks up his fork and starts to eat, using his other hand to manipulate Neal’s foot against his ~~crotch~~ dick. [NCC Comment – You used “crotch” just a few lines above.]

Neal doesn’t do anything - he stares at his salad, his eyes completely unfocused, apparently aroused beyond his expectations.

Peter uses him like sex toy. [NCC Comment – That is just SMOKIN’ HOT, BB – “uses him like a sex toy” best line ever in WC fic] Despite the condom, he has no intention of coming against Neal’s foot.

There’s a Starbucks on the way back to the office, the kind with the single user men’s room and a very discrete point of entry. No one will notice that one man’s gone in before another has come out. They’ve done this before.

And they’ll very likely do it again. Many times.

FIN

[NCC Comment – What? It ends HERE? NEED MOAR, PLZ. Okay – this is great – love it. As always, you are a mistress of the seksi written word.]

Tim’s happy. Nonconcon is a terrific beta – she’s got an impeccable sense of what works and what doesn’t. He thinks a little more about the title. “Pressure On All Sides?” Nah. He keeps thinking and get’s inspired. “No One Will Ever Know.” That works.

Tim fires off a quick email to Nonconcon, thanking her for her kind works and quick work. He scrolls back up and makes the changes to the title and adds the beta credit. He checks his watch and there’s got just enough time to clean it up and post it before he has to be back on set.

The shooting finally wraps around eleven, and they are all eager to get home and get some sleep. He waves goodbye to Matt and Willie as they head back to their own places and he goes to pick up his bag from his trailer when he spots what looks like Matt’s phone on his set chair. It is Matt’s phone. Tim shakes his head – Matt’s going to be a wreck when he realizes it’s gone.

Tim pockets the phone and gets his back from his trailer. He plans to call Matty as soon as he gets into the town car waiting for him, but he’s exhausted and drops off to sleep as soon as the car pulls away from the curb. Tim isn’t asleep for long when a short vibration from Matt’s iPhone wakens him.

He presses the power-on button and is greated with a picture of Simon and the three boys. And there’s no password protection. The screen goes dark in a few seconds and Tim is about to shove it back into his pocket when it buzzes again. He’s been around enough iPhones to know that that’s the sound of incoming mail. He knows better, he really does – but his curiosity gets the better of him.

Tim presses the power button and swips a finger across the screen. The little red badge on the Mail icon says that there are twenty new messages. His thumb hovers over it – what he’s thinking of doing is such a terrible violation of his co-star’s privacy. He’s about to shut the phone off and put it back into his pocket when the car hits a bump and his finger comes into contact with the Mail icon. The Inbox screen comes up and Tim has no intention of reading any of Matt’s emails, except that he can’t help but notice one from Mr_Satchmo@gmail.com, with the header “THANK YOU!

This isn’t happening. This really isn’t happening. Matt is Nonconcon.

Without any conscious volition, Tim taps on the message, which was already read. Yes – it is the email he had sent to Nonconcon. He closes it and scrolls through the Inbox, there are dozens of emails from LJ users. Comments and replies and private messages, including a bunch from Mr_Satchmo.

He would have kept staring at that screen, but the driver had pulled up to his apartment building, and got out to open his door.

Tim’s in daze. He finds himself inside his efficiency apartment without any recollection of getting there. The iPhone buzzes again, pulling him out of his stupor.

He drops it on the couch and wonders what the fuck he’s going to do.

He’s sitting there for god knows how long when the building intercom buzzes. Tim groans – he loves his fans, but it’s almost midnight, and it would be the first time someone’s tracked him down.

“Yes.”

“Tim – it’s Matt. I think you have my phone?”

Shit “Yeah – I do.”

“I’ll come up and get it.”

Tim presses the buzzer to let Matt in. He grabs the phone and wipes the glass clean, is if getting rid of his fingerprints would erase what he’s done.

It doesn’t take long for Matty’s knock and Tim’s afraid to answer it. What the hell is he going to say, “Here’s your phone, Nonconcon?”

Matt knocks again and Tim opens the door and lets him in.

He’s got an iPad in his hands and Tim can’t help but notice the glowing blue circle around satellite view map of his apartment building.

“Ahh – that’s how you know I have it.”

Matt grins. “Yeah, isn’t technology wonderful.”

He hands Matty his phone, and he has to say something. “You get an awful lot of email.”

Matt shrugs. “It’s the kids mostly - Kit. He likes to give me a run-down of his day.”

There’s almost a squirrelly look on Matt’s face. He can’t quite meet Tim’s eyes.

Tim had to confess. “I looked at your mail. You really need to keep your phone locked.” Great, blame the victim.

Matt blinks, as if he can’t believe what Tim just told him. “You opened my private email?”

“I wasn’t going to. I really wasn’t. But I saw something.”

“What excuse could you possibly have? What could you have possibly seen that would give you the right to look at my private email?”

Tim decides to bite the bullet – because if he’s wrecked their friendship, he might as well go all the way.

“I’m Mr. Satchmo.”

Matt just stares at him. Tim knows his face is beet-red.

“And you’re Nonconon.”

“Wait – wait. You mean you’re Mr-underscore-Satchmo - the fan fic writer I’ve been corresponding with for the past three months?”

“Yeah. I am.”

Matt drops onto the couch. “I don’t believe this. You’re Mr_Satchmo.”

Tim sits down next to him. “Yeah, I am.” He repeats himself because there’s nothing else he can say.

“You’re writing White Collar fan fiction. You’re writing Peter Neal slash. You’re writing gay sex between us. Between our characters.”

“And so are you. And if I recall – your last one was a little on the extreme side. Whips, leather, plugs. Some really kinky shit. And your comments today – you wanted ‘spankies’.”

Matt sits there, shaking his head.

Tim drops an arm around his shoulder. “Yeah – I kind of had the same reaction when I realized what I was seeing. And I’m really, really sorry I looked at your email. I wasn’t going to but my finger slipped.”

Matt seems to have gotten over his mad, because he chuckles and leans against him, sighing. “We are so screwed if anyone else finds out. Do you know what the network will do to us?”

“We’d fry.” Something occurs to Tim. “Does Simon know?”

Matt looks up at him, blue eyes wide. “NO! No – of course not. The Nonconcon gmail account is forwarded only to my iPhone and my iPad. I never access it from ... shit. Of course I access it – I use my laptop to go into LJ all the time.”

“Simon can’t see into that, can he?” He knows that Matt’s husband is a bit of a geek.

“No – he can’t. He wouldn’t.” Matt’s voice trails off, realizing that everything’s set up so Simon can – to trouble shoot when Matt doesn’t something wrong.

“He can, can’t he?”

“Yeah – he can’t. But he wouldn’t.” This, Tim believes. He knows Simon, and he knows how much the man loves his husband.

Tim sits there with Matt. “We’re a pair of kinky freaks, aren’t we? But at least we’re not writing RPS.”

Matt blushes and Tim can’t believe his eyes.

“Is there something else you want to tell me?”

Matt nods and bites his lip. “Nonconcon isn’t my only user name.”

FIN