Title: Turning the tables
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Peter/Neal
Spoilers: No
Timeline:Takes place mid season
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made
A/N: Big thanks to sparky77 for her fantastic beta skills.

Summary: Neal's not as smart as he thinks he is.




Neal gasped and turned his face so his jaw brushed against the pillow under his head. He tried to move his wrists but they were caught in a vise grip and his movements only got him a warning squeeze as Peter moved over him, moved inside him.

A low laugh made him shiver and before he could ask what the joke was, lips trailed over the newly exposed portions of his neck. Neal twisted his hips and squirmed but Peter held tight and sucked a bruise into the delicate skin on his neck. A whimper escaped his mouth and Neal hated that he’d given that away.

He let a groan escape when Peter let go of one of his wrists to pull one of Neal’s thighs higher. He inhabited the space between Neal’s legs so perfectly that Neal could barely imagine a time when Peter hadn’t been pressed this close to him, their skin sticking and pulling apart as Peter strove to drive him insane.

The body over his felt too good to be true and as a master of the Con, Neal hated that he wanted to believe each thrust meant more that it did. He’d flirted and teased until he’d caught Peter. Or had Peter caught him?

Neal gasped when teeth bit down on his lower lip. Peter was watching him, arousal etched on his face, hazel eyes taking in every blink and twitch Neal was making. Peter’s hips snapped forward and Neal arched his back, ready to come. Just one touch and he’d be off like a rocket, but no matter how much he pleaded with his eyes, Peter just kept moving, slowly pulling back before pushing forward just as slow.

The unhurried movements were driving Neal insane. Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore Peter would start to thrust quickly, taking pleasure in throwing Neal off his game, before slowing back down again.

Neal refused to beg but he stopped pretending Peter wasn’t in control. He gave him the last bit of himself and relaxed, letting Peter have all that he wanted. Peter gave him a beautiful smile in return and within minutes he was coming, each pulse echoing inside Neal through the thin latex that separated them.

Peter rested his head against Neal’s forehead for a moment before pulling out and sliding down, his hands keeping Neal’s legs apart. Neal had time for a quick quirk of his eyebrows before Peter swallowed him down, his tongue licking and tasting every inch of Neal he could get into his mouth.

Neal’s mouth dropped open and he thanked luck that no one was around to see it except his ceiling. He was being sucked smoothly with a touch of sloppy, just like he liked it, no like he loved it. How did Peter know? How did he know Neal liked his balls licked while a slick hand stroked him with that little perfect twist at the base of his cock?

It’s only been a week since Neal managed to get Peter horizontal and they should still be learning what the other liked. Neal knew a few things about Peter’s body, but apparently Peter seemed like he already had a map of Neal Caffrey that he’d studied and memorized. When one slick finger teased the edge of his hole, Neal groaned and came, his body jerking and thrusting up into Peter’s mouth without Neal’s say so.

Peter swallowed it all and kept licking until Neal pulled away. He was almost afraid Peter would persist but instead he rose up and wiped a hand across his mouth, his muscled body damp with sweat and looking like the best dream Neal had ever had. He continued to stare as Peter walked to the bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth.

Peter had already cleaned himself and when he got closer, Neal held a hand out but Peter moved it aside and ran the cloth over Neal’s body, stroking and rubbing. Neal shivered at the gentle touch, his afterglow turning to confusion. Peter had been rough earlier, and once Neal got over the shock of it he’d loved it, but now Peter was different and Neal had to wonder if this was just another way to keep him off balance.

Neal lay down and pulled a thin sheet up to his chest. He experienced a flutter low in his stomach when Peter turned off the lamp and lay beside him, one arm snaking around his ribs. He meant to ask Peter when he was leaving but Neal fell asleep before he could form the question.

~~~~

A noise woke Neal up. He opened his eyes and drowsily watched Peter gather his clothes. The sky outside was that deep blue that would soon change to dawn. Neal could still feel Peter on his skin. His sleepiness turned to anger. If Peter was going to sneak out he should have left after the sex. Neal wanted to hurt him and didn’t stop to think why.

“What are you going to tell Elizabeth?”

Peter pulled on his pants. “About what?”

Neal raised himself up on one elbow and sneered. “About what? About where you’ve been, about you fucking me for a few hours and then crawling into bed with her? She might have a problem with that.”

Peter frowned and buttoned his shirt. “Who do you think told me to come over here? Have you seen my tie?”

Neal sat up. “You told Elizabeth about us?”

Peter picked up his tie from behind the door sized mirror next to the bed. “Of course.” He studied the look on Neal’s face and sighed before sitting down next to Neal. One hand slipped under the sheet and touched Neal’s hip. “I don’t keep secrets from her and a quickie is not worth my marriage.”

Neal tried to move away but Peter’s hand gripped his thigh. “Not that that’s what you are, even though that’s what you think, so I’m waiting for you to catch up.” He leaned forward and kissed Neal’s mouth, diving in with his tongue and licking the taste of sleep out. “We’re both waiting for you to catch up.” Fingers caressed the back of his neck and Neal moved closer just as Peter pulled away and stood.

Neal tried to figure out what he meant. Neal was caught up. Neal was always caught up or ready to at least pretend he was. He watched Peter walk out and then lay back down, Peter’s last words turning over and over in his brain.

After tossing and turning for awhile he got up and pulled out his sketch pad. He started to draw vague forms and shapes that coalesced into a man and woman in bed, their bodies pressed close, their skin sweaty slick as they had sex for hours. After finishing the drawing, Neal could admit that he’d looked at El a few times and thought ‘hmmm.”

But Peter was always there, in his face, and it was Peter that Neal watched and waited for and smiled at. Maybe Peter was right and he needed to start thinking of other possibilities. It could be fun, but it could also be a disaster. Neal crawled back into bed, savoring every twinge and ache. He’d wait, instead of giving in and rushing right over.

El didn’t deserve half of his attention and for his motivation for getting involved with her to be mostly just to make Peter happy. If this happened, Neal wanted to want them both full stop, no doubts or hesitations. He made a mental note to send Elizabeth Burke flowers later. It was only right that he acknowledge that she had some great ideas.

The End