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elrhiarhodanTitle: Fevered Dreams
For: MMOM - Thirty (One) Dirty Words 2012 - Prompt 029 – Burn
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke (Pre Peter/Neal)
Spoilers/Episode References: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Sick!Fic AND Stroke!Fic, plus extra Angst.
Word Count: 800
Summary: Neal’s fevered confession does something to Peter, and Peter can never let him know.
A/N: And yet another idea spawned by my bestie,coffeethyme4me. What will I do without her?
_________________________
“I love you, Peter.” Neal looked up at him, his eyes crusted, face covered in three days of beard, hair greasy. Peter sighed, this wasn’t the time or the place. He wasn't ready to deal with it.
“That’s … nice.” And he kicked himself - there had to be a better way to answer that.
Neal blinked, even in his fever-ridden state, that wasn’t the answer he expected. “I said, I love you.” He was making an effort to enunciate.
He did his best to ignore Neal's proclamation and stroked his forehead, disturbed by the heat radiating out of his skin and buzzed for a nurse.
“Peter?”
His heart ached at the disappointment contained in that one word. “Hush, you need to rest.” Thankfully, the nurse came in. She took Neal’s temp and check the IVs.
“Why is his fever still so high?”
She explained that Neal’s infection was antibiotic resistant and that it was going to take time for the new medication to work.
Neal tossed his head restlessly. “Wanna go home, please. Take me home.”
Peter’s heart cracked. It was bad enough that Neal got hurt saving his life, but this - this was just terrible. He sat with Neal for a few more hours, listening to his harsh breathing, the sad muttering. He called out for Peter a few times, but Peter’s voice, his touch wouldn’t soothe him.
Doctors bustled in and out, he was hustled out of the room when they needed to change the cath and clean him up. Peter called El, updated her on the situation. She wanted him to come home and rest, but he couldn't. Not until Neal’s fever broke.
Sometime around dawn, the sound of Neal’s voice - sleepy but clear - woke him.
“Peter? Where am I?”
He felt Neal’s forehead, it was cool and dry. “You’re at Mount Sinai - you decided to throw yourself in front of a bullet. It only nicked your arm, but you ended up with a very bad infection.”
“I think I remember.” He looked at Peter, still a bit confused. “You look like crap. Have you been here all this time?”
Peter brushed off the question. “Yeah - they wouldn’t let us keep the tracking anklet on, and it was either me or a U.S. Marshal. Figured that you’d run if I left just a Marshal.”
“Yeah, probably.” Neal managed a smile. Peter smiled back.
The nurse came in and asked him to step out. He figured it was safe to go home, Neal would be fine now. “I’ll be back in a few hours, okay? You’ll be here?”
“Where would I go?” That was the old response.
He turned to leave, and Neal called after him. “Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Did I say anything … embarrassing?”
Peter shook his head, “Not really - you just kept asking for your favorite tie.” A lie, and a bad one at that.
“Oh, okay. Just have this memory.” Neal shook his head. “Must have been a fever dream.”
Peter nodded. “I’ll be back in a few - behave yourself.”
He got home, and Elizabeth - wondrous, wonderful Elizabeth - wrapped her arms around him and got him upstairs and into the shower. The hot water sluiced away three days of grime and fear, but it couldn’t erase Neal’s fevered confession.
I love you, Peter.
He’d know, he’d suspected for months. But as long as Neal never said anything, never looked at him with those bright blue eyes filled with such guileless adoration, he would be okay.
But he’d seen those eyes. Heard those words. They played over and over in his head. He couldn’t stop his body’s inappropriate reaction.
I love you, Peter.
His cock swelled.
I love you, Peter.
He touched himself. A light stroke for each word.
I love you, Peter.
He closed his eyes, letting the hot water cascade over his shoulders and back, easing muscles that ached from days of sitting at Neal’s beside. But another muscle ached too, and no amount of hot water would soothe that.
I love you, Peter.
His strokes grew more forceful, he was trying to pull the orgasm out of his soul.
I love you, Peter.
Peter came in a fierce, terrible rush that left him weak, drained. He turned into the spray and let it wash it all away. He turned off the water and got out, with had barely enough energy to dry off. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stumbled towards the bedroom. El had turned down the covers and lowered the blinds against the mid-morning sun.
As his head hit the pillow, Peter drifted into sleep, but his last thought was, I love you, Neal.
FIN
For: MMOM - Thirty (One) Dirty Words 2012 - Prompt 029 – Burn
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke (Pre Peter/Neal)
Spoilers/Episode References: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Sick!Fic AND Stroke!Fic, plus extra Angst.
Word Count: 800
Summary: Neal’s fevered confession does something to Peter, and Peter can never let him know.
A/N: And yet another idea spawned by my bestie,
coffeethyme4me. What will I do without her?“I love you, Peter.” Neal looked up at him, his eyes crusted, face covered in three days of beard, hair greasy. Peter sighed, this wasn’t the time or the place. He wasn't ready to deal with it.
“That’s … nice.” And he kicked himself - there had to be a better way to answer that.
Neal blinked, even in his fever-ridden state, that wasn’t the answer he expected. “I said, I love you.” He was making an effort to enunciate.
He did his best to ignore Neal's proclamation and stroked his forehead, disturbed by the heat radiating out of his skin and buzzed for a nurse.
“Peter?”
His heart ached at the disappointment contained in that one word. “Hush, you need to rest.” Thankfully, the nurse came in. She took Neal’s temp and check the IVs.
“Why is his fever still so high?”
She explained that Neal’s infection was antibiotic resistant and that it was going to take time for the new medication to work.
Neal tossed his head restlessly. “Wanna go home, please. Take me home.”
Peter’s heart cracked. It was bad enough that Neal got hurt saving his life, but this - this was just terrible. He sat with Neal for a few more hours, listening to his harsh breathing, the sad muttering. He called out for Peter a few times, but Peter’s voice, his touch wouldn’t soothe him.
Doctors bustled in and out, he was hustled out of the room when they needed to change the cath and clean him up. Peter called El, updated her on the situation. She wanted him to come home and rest, but he couldn't. Not until Neal’s fever broke.
Sometime around dawn, the sound of Neal’s voice - sleepy but clear - woke him.
“Peter? Where am I?”
He felt Neal’s forehead, it was cool and dry. “You’re at Mount Sinai - you decided to throw yourself in front of a bullet. It only nicked your arm, but you ended up with a very bad infection.”
“I think I remember.” He looked at Peter, still a bit confused. “You look like crap. Have you been here all this time?”
Peter brushed off the question. “Yeah - they wouldn’t let us keep the tracking anklet on, and it was either me or a U.S. Marshal. Figured that you’d run if I left just a Marshal.”
“Yeah, probably.” Neal managed a smile. Peter smiled back.
The nurse came in and asked him to step out. He figured it was safe to go home, Neal would be fine now. “I’ll be back in a few hours, okay? You’ll be here?”
“Where would I go?” That was the old response.
He turned to leave, and Neal called after him. “Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Did I say anything … embarrassing?”
Peter shook his head, “Not really - you just kept asking for your favorite tie.” A lie, and a bad one at that.
“Oh, okay. Just have this memory.” Neal shook his head. “Must have been a fever dream.”
Peter nodded. “I’ll be back in a few - behave yourself.”
He got home, and Elizabeth - wondrous, wonderful Elizabeth - wrapped her arms around him and got him upstairs and into the shower. The hot water sluiced away three days of grime and fear, but it couldn’t erase Neal’s fevered confession.
I love you, Peter.
He’d know, he’d suspected for months. But as long as Neal never said anything, never looked at him with those bright blue eyes filled with such guileless adoration, he would be okay.
But he’d seen those eyes. Heard those words. They played over and over in his head. He couldn’t stop his body’s inappropriate reaction.
I love you, Peter.
His cock swelled.
I love you, Peter.
He touched himself. A light stroke for each word.
I love you, Peter.
He closed his eyes, letting the hot water cascade over his shoulders and back, easing muscles that ached from days of sitting at Neal’s beside. But another muscle ached too, and no amount of hot water would soothe that.
I love you, Peter.
His strokes grew more forceful, he was trying to pull the orgasm out of his soul.
I love you, Peter.
Peter came in a fierce, terrible rush that left him weak, drained. He turned into the spray and let it wash it all away. He turned off the water and got out, with had barely enough energy to dry off. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stumbled towards the bedroom. El had turned down the covers and lowered the blinds against the mid-morning sun.
As his head hit the pillow, Peter drifted into sleep, but his last thought was, I love you, Neal.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 02:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:38 pm (UTC)Peter knew how Neal felt, but he just wasn't prepared to hear it out loud, and certainly not when Neal's delirious.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:39 pm (UTC)Nothing like a little wank with the hurt/comfort. Or is that a little h/c with the wank?
no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:40 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:40 pm (UTC)They'll get it right.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 11:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:41 pm (UTC)I think that Peter was really worried that it was just a product of Neal's delirium, and not a true feeling.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 12:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:41 pm (UTC)Sorry!
no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 02:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-01 07:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:42 pm (UTC)Love the icon, it's fabulous.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-02 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-02 12:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 02:44 pm (UTC)I can't promise a sequel very promptly, but we'll see what happens.
All I can say - "watch this space."
no subject
Date: 2012-06-11 03:16 am (UTC)