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elrhiarhodanTitle: Stay By Me (and Make the Moment Last) - A Wonder(ful) Years Timestamp
For: MMOM - Thirty (One) Dirty Words 2012 - Prompt 031 – Desire
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey (Peter/Neal)
Spoilers/Episode References: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Another timestamp for the Wonder(flu) Years ‘Verse, and a direct sequel to Just The Sound Of Your Voice. It’s 1993, Peter’s an up and coming agent in the New York field office. He’s bright and dedicated and he misses his partner Neal Caffrey. Neal’s an agent-trainee at Quantico, and in the days before cell phones, one has to make do with talking on the pay phone in the hall.
_________________________
Peter stretched and it felt like every joint in his body cracked. He’d been in the office from a little after eight this morning, even though it was a Sunday and two weeks before Christmas. They were getting so damn close to getting indictments on a half a dozen of New York’s biggest players. Guys that were at the level of Boesky and Milliken and Vesco. It had been all hands on deck for the better part of the last three months.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t have time to miss Neal. He missed him like he’d miss breathing. They’d never been separated this long, not even when he was at the Academy. Neal had been working in Washington and they got together every free weekend he had. This was worse that that time in high school when he thought he was being noble, except that he has just been stupid.
“Go home, Peter.” Hughes dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing more that can be done tonight.”
Peter looked up. His boss, Reese Hughes, was a stern, no-nonsense agent. But he was fair, too. And he seemed to take delight in pointing out Peter’s dedication to the higher-ups. One of the older agents had commented, rather snidely, that Peter was being groomed for bigger things. He hoped this was true.
That might very well be, but he was still here on a Sunday afternoon doing scut work, searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
“Sir?”
“I said, pack it in. Everyone else has left and I’m going home.”
Peter looked at the folder, as if it would instantly reveal the one piece of evidence they needed. “But …”
“No buts, Burke. It’s two o’clock, and if you leave now, you just might make it home in time for the Giants game.”
Peter gave in, gave up and dropped the file on the desk. Monday would come soon enough.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Peter trudged up the three flights of stairs, aggravated and exhausted. It took about an hour and forty-five minutes to get home. Signal problems on his subway line forced a rerouting and three train changes.
He didn’t really care if he missed the kickoff or even the whole damn game. Watching football by himself was not something he enjoyed. While Neal didn’t particularly care for the game, he would still sit on the couch with Peter, studying or sketching. Always doing something. It had become something of a wintertime ritual, and damn it - he missed him. Neal’s easy companionship, his quick intelligence, his body next to him at night.
Of course, it was more than just the sex - he didn’t like going without, but there was no one for him but Neal, and he’d survive. Even if it meant stocking up on industrial-sized bottles of Jergen’s.
What he missed the most was the bright, easy desire between them. Four years of college and three years of grad school did nothing to dim that. They had a few gay friends, guys on the down-low, who thought that their monogamy was a little crazy. Maybe it was, but Peter had no interest in anyone else and he knew to the depth of his bones that Neal felt the same way.
That’s not to say that porn didn’t do any for him - particularly videos of well-built brunettes with big dicks and tight asses. Jerk-off material, that’s all it was. Something to release the tension. He knew that Neal had a stash of porn - they’d compared collections more than once. He preferred moving images, but Neal like “erotica” - classy stuff. Books and shit like that.
Peter let himself into the apartment, and as he closed the door, the answering machine clicked on.
Peter. It’s me. Neal. Thought you’d be home …
He made a diving lunge for the phone. “I am, I am. Just got in.”
“Hey there.” Neal was the one who actually sounded a bit breathless.
“Hey, yourself.”
Neal didn’t answer right away.
“You okay, Neal?”
“Yeah, just ...”
Peter could hear the aching loneliness in Neal’s voice. “Yeah. I know.” He sat down on the beat up wing chair that had been part of the furnishings in their house in Cambridge. “You doing okay?”
“Great, fine, wonderful.”
Neal didn’t sound like any of those things. “Listen, you’re over the halfway mark. Only two more months to go.” He tried to distract Neal. “Tell me about your classes.”
Neal chuckled. “It’s not like you don’t know exactly what I’m doing, Peter. Four years isn’t long enough to forget that.”
“Don’t be such a smart aleck. How is the thesis coming along?”
“The outline’s done, have some interviews to do - I may go up to the Boston field office next week and talk with the case agent.”
They chatted for a few minutes longer, Peter gave him some highlights of his own work. Nothing particularly detailed - that would be indiscreet. The call came to an abrupt end.
“Damn, there’s someone waiting to use the phone - I’ve got to go.”
Peter swallowed against the ache in his throat, against the words that he longed to say, but couldn’t. Not now. “I understand. Have a great night.”
“You too.”
“Bye.”
Neal hung up and Peter couldn’t help himself. Against the dial tone, he whispered, “I love you.”
FIN
For: MMOM - Thirty (One) Dirty Words 2012 - Prompt 031 – Desire
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey (Peter/Neal)
Spoilers/Episode References: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Another timestamp for the Wonder(flu) Years ‘Verse, and a direct sequel to Just The Sound Of Your Voice. It’s 1993, Peter’s an up and coming agent in the New York field office. He’s bright and dedicated and he misses his partner Neal Caffrey. Neal’s an agent-trainee at Quantico, and in the days before cell phones, one has to make do with talking on the pay phone in the hall.
Peter stretched and it felt like every joint in his body cracked. He’d been in the office from a little after eight this morning, even though it was a Sunday and two weeks before Christmas. They were getting so damn close to getting indictments on a half a dozen of New York’s biggest players. Guys that were at the level of Boesky and Milliken and Vesco. It had been all hands on deck for the better part of the last three months.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t have time to miss Neal. He missed him like he’d miss breathing. They’d never been separated this long, not even when he was at the Academy. Neal had been working in Washington and they got together every free weekend he had. This was worse that that time in high school when he thought he was being noble, except that he has just been stupid.
“Go home, Peter.” Hughes dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing more that can be done tonight.”
Peter looked up. His boss, Reese Hughes, was a stern, no-nonsense agent. But he was fair, too. And he seemed to take delight in pointing out Peter’s dedication to the higher-ups. One of the older agents had commented, rather snidely, that Peter was being groomed for bigger things. He hoped this was true.
That might very well be, but he was still here on a Sunday afternoon doing scut work, searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
“Sir?”
“I said, pack it in. Everyone else has left and I’m going home.”
Peter looked at the folder, as if it would instantly reveal the one piece of evidence they needed. “But …”
“No buts, Burke. It’s two o’clock, and if you leave now, you just might make it home in time for the Giants game.”
Peter gave in, gave up and dropped the file on the desk. Monday would come soon enough.
Peter trudged up the three flights of stairs, aggravated and exhausted. It took about an hour and forty-five minutes to get home. Signal problems on his subway line forced a rerouting and three train changes.
He didn’t really care if he missed the kickoff or even the whole damn game. Watching football by himself was not something he enjoyed. While Neal didn’t particularly care for the game, he would still sit on the couch with Peter, studying or sketching. Always doing something. It had become something of a wintertime ritual, and damn it - he missed him. Neal’s easy companionship, his quick intelligence, his body next to him at night.
Of course, it was more than just the sex - he didn’t like going without, but there was no one for him but Neal, and he’d survive. Even if it meant stocking up on industrial-sized bottles of Jergen’s.
What he missed the most was the bright, easy desire between them. Four years of college and three years of grad school did nothing to dim that. They had a few gay friends, guys on the down-low, who thought that their monogamy was a little crazy. Maybe it was, but Peter had no interest in anyone else and he knew to the depth of his bones that Neal felt the same way.
That’s not to say that porn didn’t do any for him - particularly videos of well-built brunettes with big dicks and tight asses. Jerk-off material, that’s all it was. Something to release the tension. He knew that Neal had a stash of porn - they’d compared collections more than once. He preferred moving images, but Neal like “erotica” - classy stuff. Books and shit like that.
Peter let himself into the apartment, and as he closed the door, the answering machine clicked on.
Peter. It’s me. Neal. Thought you’d be home …
He made a diving lunge for the phone. “I am, I am. Just got in.”
“Hey there.” Neal was the one who actually sounded a bit breathless.
“Hey, yourself.”
Neal didn’t answer right away.
“You okay, Neal?”
“Yeah, just ...”
Peter could hear the aching loneliness in Neal’s voice. “Yeah. I know.” He sat down on the beat up wing chair that had been part of the furnishings in their house in Cambridge. “You doing okay?”
“Great, fine, wonderful.”
Neal didn’t sound like any of those things. “Listen, you’re over the halfway mark. Only two more months to go.” He tried to distract Neal. “Tell me about your classes.”
Neal chuckled. “It’s not like you don’t know exactly what I’m doing, Peter. Four years isn’t long enough to forget that.”
“Don’t be such a smart aleck. How is the thesis coming along?”
“The outline’s done, have some interviews to do - I may go up to the Boston field office next week and talk with the case agent.”
They chatted for a few minutes longer, Peter gave him some highlights of his own work. Nothing particularly detailed - that would be indiscreet. The call came to an abrupt end.
“Damn, there’s someone waiting to use the phone - I’ve got to go.”
Peter swallowed against the ache in his throat, against the words that he longed to say, but couldn’t. Not now. “I understand. Have a great night.”
“You too.”
“Bye.”
Neal hung up and Peter couldn’t help himself. Against the dial tone, he whispered, “I love you.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 01:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 01:24 am (UTC)Actually, the next set of stories jumps back in time - Peter and Neal coming out to Cathy and Joe. And Neal dealing with his mother. There's about 4k in that already.
Now that MMOM is over and all 31 prompts are filled, I can write other stuff with a clear head.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 01:22 am (UTC)Love Peter's side of the story, poor guy, he misses Neal just as much. But that's understandable, I think what I like best about the entire verse is that their love is so special, you can feel it in everything they do and say... or don't say. It's beautiful, one of a kind, perfect and it just melts me completely \o/
Thank you again. Love it :D
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 01:36 am (UTC)That's exactly what I'm trying to convey - the rightness of these two people together. And rare and perfect.
More stories are on their way - just got to get 'em out of my head and onto "paper".
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 01:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 01:35 am (UTC)They will be back together soon. Neal's going to graduate in a few short months. There is a story there, you know.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 05:27 am (UTC)I'm so, so glad that you are planning more stories in this world. I'm just eating them up.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 04:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 12:27 pm (UTC)Peter's going to find the break in the case that catches the bad guys, right? Maybe he'll have to go to D.C. to look something up... :-)
Dang, now I'm trying desperately to remember when pocket-sized cellphones became available. I got mine in 2001, but I know they'd been around a while by then.
I'm also imagining an infinite number of AUs, with the one common feature being that Peter Burke has a thing for well-built brunettes.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 03:48 pm (UTC)The Motorola trapezoid came out in late 1995, but coverage was very spotty and very expensive (my plan was $60 a month for 10 minutes free a month, and $1.50 a minute for over charges, plus long distance.
Love that idea - every A/U - Peter has a type. Well-built brunettes. Preferably with blue eyes.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 12:17 am (UTC)Pre-planned, with list in hand, no talking about the weather either.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 03:16 pm (UTC)Beautiful little story.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 03:43 pm (UTC)I think I have to write the two of them sitting on the couch during a game. Maybe Peter pulls Neal's feet into his lap and accidentally squeezes them too hard during a key play.
Or Neal distracts Peter by giving him a blow job.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-06 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 05:34 pm (UTC)Squeaky
no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 12:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 10:56 am (UTC)Please tell me the reunion fic is coming soon? :-)
no subject
Date: 2012-06-04 12:44 pm (UTC)I had to give Hughes a few lines here - because, as we know, HE'S BACK! (Runs around with her hands flailing).
Yes, yes - reunion fic is on the drawing board.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-06 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 02:31 pm (UTC)(Sorry for the delayed reply)
no subject
Date: 2012-06-11 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 02:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-12 09:43 am (UTC)::cuddles them both and tells 'em they'll be back together soon::