White Collar Ficlet - Tea and Sympathy
Jun. 24th, 2010 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elrhiarhodanTitle: Tea and Sympathy
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Bite!Play
Word Count: ~ 400
Summary: For Some Reason, Neal Can’t Fall Sleep
Ficlet written forhoosierbitch and originally published as comment!porn in her journal.
_____________
Neal felt pleasantly wasted. Sore ass, the bite marks on his arms and shoulders, his hips and butt, were sending crescent-shaped aftershocks through his nervous system, his nipples were just this side of painfully tender. But oddly enough, he couldn't sleep.
Maybe a cup of tea. He carefully got out of bed, pulled on a pair of sleep pants and made his way downstairs. Satchmo, sleeping on the landing, lifted his head and gave Neal a rather half-hearted tail wag before dropping back into his doggie dreams.
Peter wasn't a tea drinker, and neither was Neal - though he once ran a con involving the Third Earl of Somerville and he learned very quickly that he couldn't masquerade as a proper Englishman unless he knew the mechanics of a proper cuppa. Elizabeth, on the other hand, greatly enjoyed the brew and kept a vast assortment of teas on hand - green and black and herbal, bagged and loose. Much to Peter's disgust (never voiced), she had a whole cabinet devoted to the stuff.
Neal set the pot to boil and started pillaging the cabinet for something that would help him sleep. Chamomile? Ah, there, tucked behind the canisters of Twinings was a box of SleepyTime. He leaned against the counter and savored the ache in his ass as the kettle heated.
He rubbed at one of the bite marks on the apple of his shoulder, tracing the indentations with his fingers. His cock twitched in remembered arousal. Elizabeth...he never realized that her teeth were quite so sharp.
As if his thoughts summoned her, she was briefly silhouetted in the reed glass before the kitchen door swung opened.
“Neal, is everything all right?” Her voice was low, concerned.
He held out his arms and she came to him, tucking her head against the smooth warmth of his chest.
“Was I too rough on you?”
Neal pressed his lips against the crown of her head, then smiled. “No, not at all. Peter's taught you well.”
“Good. I can't wait until he gets home - I want to show him all the bruises I left on you.”
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodan Fandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Bite!Play
Word Count: ~ 400
Summary: For Some Reason, Neal Can’t Fall Sleep
Ficlet written for
hoosierbitch and originally published as comment!porn in her journal.Neal felt pleasantly wasted. Sore ass, the bite marks on his arms and shoulders, his hips and butt, were sending crescent-shaped aftershocks through his nervous system, his nipples were just this side of painfully tender. But oddly enough, he couldn't sleep.
Maybe a cup of tea. He carefully got out of bed, pulled on a pair of sleep pants and made his way downstairs. Satchmo, sleeping on the landing, lifted his head and gave Neal a rather half-hearted tail wag before dropping back into his doggie dreams.
Peter wasn't a tea drinker, and neither was Neal - though he once ran a con involving the Third Earl of Somerville and he learned very quickly that he couldn't masquerade as a proper Englishman unless he knew the mechanics of a proper cuppa. Elizabeth, on the other hand, greatly enjoyed the brew and kept a vast assortment of teas on hand - green and black and herbal, bagged and loose. Much to Peter's disgust (never voiced), she had a whole cabinet devoted to the stuff.
Neal set the pot to boil and started pillaging the cabinet for something that would help him sleep. Chamomile? Ah, there, tucked behind the canisters of Twinings was a box of SleepyTime. He leaned against the counter and savored the ache in his ass as the kettle heated.
He rubbed at one of the bite marks on the apple of his shoulder, tracing the indentations with his fingers. His cock twitched in remembered arousal. Elizabeth...he never realized that her teeth were quite so sharp.
As if his thoughts summoned her, she was briefly silhouetted in the reed glass before the kitchen door swung opened.
“Neal, is everything all right?” Her voice was low, concerned.
He held out his arms and she came to him, tucking her head against the smooth warmth of his chest.
“Was I too rough on you?”
Neal pressed his lips against the crown of her head, then smiled. “No, not at all. Peter's taught you well.”
“Good. I can't wait until he gets home - I want to show him all the bruises I left on you.”
