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elrhiarhodanTitle: Through This Storm (what fortune love may bring)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke (P/E/N)
Spoilers: Oh, certainly not.
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Magic
Word Count: ~400
Summary: Peter and Elizabeth give Neal a gift that he must earn.
A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine alone. Feedback is welcome and adored. Title taken from Dead Can Dance, “In The Garden of Arcane Delights.”
________________
“Don’t move.” The command was implacable.
“Please. I have to move.” His reply, a breathless supplication, was filled with desire and need and impatience.
“Don’t move.” No disobedience would be tolerated.
Neal stayed as still as he could. On his haunches, knees splayed, hands resting on his thighs, palms facing heavenwards, as if in ecstatic prayer.
“Please, Peter. I have to move…”
Peter didn’t answer. He just placed a hand against the sweaty nape of Neal’s neck, and he instantly settled down. Quiescent, obedient. Striving for perfection.
“Elizabeth?” His wife - their wife - came forward and placed a single small black feather across each open palm. They were nearly weightless, both sturdy and fragile. An sudden movement would send them adrift.
“Don’t move.”
Neal centered himself, against the mastery of Peter’s heavy palm and the delicate balance of the feathers.
He could feel the magic begin, burning across his skin, burning like night, like the stars across a vast, empty plain.
Peter gave him the magic, he made him swallow it whole.
“Don’t move.” Again
The electricity in his veins was paralytic, but between his thighs, his cock woke, a huge hungry beast. He kept still - the feathers on his palms shivered with each heart beat, but they remained in place.
Elizabeth, a wicked goddess, beloved by them both, placed another feather on the tip on his penis. It was soaked in an instant and she blew one, twice, a third time against the sensitive skin, but it didn’t move.
Peter’s fingers drifted down his neck, tracing the bones and muscles, power trailing fire. And then a spoken command.
“Come, Neal.”
He did, and something snapped. He screamed in a moment’s pleasured agony as feather and muscle and bone burst forth. Wings, silver and black, erupted - a promised gift. They beat, stirring the air. Neal breathed, his lungs filling with the scent of myrrh and sandalwood, his eyes were blinded by a too-full moon and then feathers. Peters - bronze and gold, Elizabeth’s - the color of the sky as the sun set.
They took his hands and he stepped out onto the terrace with them. Naked as a newborn, but filled with power.
“Now - let’s fly!”
FIN
This takes place in the same universe as Not Quite Cappuccino in the Clouds: “Peter and Elizabeth had given him the tentacles as a gift to mark the first anniversary of their relationship. On their fifth anniversary, they gave him wings.
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke (P/E/N)
Spoilers: Oh, certainly not.
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Magic
Word Count: ~400
Summary: Peter and Elizabeth give Neal a gift that he must earn.
A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine alone. Feedback is welcome and adored. Title taken from Dead Can Dance, “In The Garden of Arcane Delights.”
“Don’t move.” The command was implacable.
“Please. I have to move.” His reply, a breathless supplication, was filled with desire and need and impatience.
“Don’t move.” No disobedience would be tolerated.
Neal stayed as still as he could. On his haunches, knees splayed, hands resting on his thighs, palms facing heavenwards, as if in ecstatic prayer.
“Please, Peter. I have to move…”
Peter didn’t answer. He just placed a hand against the sweaty nape of Neal’s neck, and he instantly settled down. Quiescent, obedient. Striving for perfection.
“Elizabeth?” His wife - their wife - came forward and placed a single small black feather across each open palm. They were nearly weightless, both sturdy and fragile. An sudden movement would send them adrift.
“Don’t move.”
Neal centered himself, against the mastery of Peter’s heavy palm and the delicate balance of the feathers.
He could feel the magic begin, burning across his skin, burning like night, like the stars across a vast, empty plain.
Peter gave him the magic, he made him swallow it whole.
“Don’t move.” Again
The electricity in his veins was paralytic, but between his thighs, his cock woke, a huge hungry beast. He kept still - the feathers on his palms shivered with each heart beat, but they remained in place.
Elizabeth, a wicked goddess, beloved by them both, placed another feather on the tip on his penis. It was soaked in an instant and she blew one, twice, a third time against the sensitive skin, but it didn’t move.
Peter’s fingers drifted down his neck, tracing the bones and muscles, power trailing fire. And then a spoken command.
“Come, Neal.”
He did, and something snapped. He screamed in a moment’s pleasured agony as feather and muscle and bone burst forth. Wings, silver and black, erupted - a promised gift. They beat, stirring the air. Neal breathed, his lungs filling with the scent of myrrh and sandalwood, his eyes were blinded by a too-full moon and then feathers. Peters - bronze and gold, Elizabeth’s - the color of the sky as the sun set.
They took his hands and he stepped out onto the terrace with them. Naked as a newborn, but filled with power.
“Now - let’s fly!”
This takes place in the same universe as Not Quite Cappuccino in the Clouds: “Peter and Elizabeth had given him the tentacles as a gift to mark the first anniversary of their relationship. On their fifth anniversary, they gave him wings.
