![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elrhiarhodanTitle: Love Loss Hope (repeat)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey (pre-Peter/Neal)
Spoilers: S3.14 (Pulling Strings)
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~ 900
Summary: Neal and Peter share a moment at Diana and Christie’s wedding.
A/N: Another fill for my friendcoffeethyme4me for her wonderful prompt: Peter/Neal, pre-slash/UST, They're alone; Peter straightens Neal's tie at Diana's wedding. They have a moment.
Beta’d by the fabulousjrosemary and rabidchild67, so naturally all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Your comments and feedback are always adored and appreciated. Title from Carbon Leaf’s album of the same name.
__________________
The music was in full swing, the ballroom floor crowded with wedding guests, and Diana and Christie dancing so close, you couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other started. It didn’t help that both women were wearing white – Diana in a column of sleek satin, Christie in frothy tulle.
He had danced with both brides, with the brides’ mothers and grandmothers, with the aged aunties and teenaged cousins. He had made himself into the perfect guest. But the person he most wanted to dance with would not, could not dance with him.
Sitting this set out was probably for the best; the band was playing a medley of romantic standards. Perfect for slow dancing, the type of music where you really wanted to just cling to your partner, rest your head on their shoulder and shuffle around the dance floor.
Neal looked for Peter and Elizabeth, but couldn’t see either of them. He wondered if they had snuck off and found a closet. Both of them looked way too good for his peace of mind.
He sighed. He should have invited Sara. She would have been the perfect date – no expectations and the probability of some stellar after-party sex was good. But something kept him from asking. As a member of the wedding party, he had responsibilities. It would have been rude to bring Sara and ignore her for much of the evening. And that was a lie. One of many he’d been telling himself these past months.
Standing against the wall in a dark corner, watching the world drift by to the strains of Sade, Neal didn’t hear Peter approach.
“Everything all right?”
He did his best not to jump. He didn’t even turn his head, just looked at Peter out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, fine. Just taking a breather.”
“Nice wedding.”
Neal agreed, it was one of the finer affairs he’d actually been invited to. Peter said something else, and his answer was a non-committal, “hmm.” He really wasn’t paying attention to his attempts at banal conversation. It seemed that every cell in his body was reacting to the other man’s proximity.
“You gave quite performance out there. Didn’t know you could swing dance.” Peter remarked in an offhand manner.
He shrugged. “Something I liked to do, it’s like riding a bicycle.”
They stood there, close but not close enough. Or maybe too close for his peace of mind.
“What are you thinking?” Peter’s voice was oddly low; he had to strain to hear it.
“Nothing – nothing really.” You don’t want to know what I’m thinking. “Where’s Elizabeth?” He had to ask.
“Back in the kitchen, I think. There were some problems with the wedding cake – such are the joys of being a guest and the event planner.”
Peter was standing close enough that Neal could feel the body heat radiating off of him, and like a flower turning to the light, he turned to Peter. The smarter thing to do would have been to step away. But when it came to Peter, he was rarely smart.
Peter was smiling at him, wearing that irresistible half grin, his eyelids drooping – like a lion surveying his pride. Neal smiled back, gritted his teeth and willed himself not to get an erection.
Peter chuckled, the sound plucking at his self-control.
“What’s so funny?”
“You – I don’t ever think I’ve seen you look quite so … disheveled in your formalwear.”
Neal ran his hands through his hair and made to straighten his tie. He supposed the exertion from his forays on the dance floor had taken their toll on his grooming.
“Stop, stop – you’re making it worse.” Peter brushed his hands away and combed gentle fingers through his hair, tucking away an unruly curl. The intimacy of the moment made Neal forget how to breathe. The rough, callused edge of Peter’s index finger lingered on the upper edge of his ear, and every erogenous zone in his body reacted.
Peter’s hand slid down, fingers caressing his jaw, lingering on the exposed skin of his neck, tightening and straightening his bow tie, brushing down the shoulders of his jacket. “There – all fixed.”
Neal blinked, chilled as Peter stepped back. The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. He wondered if he imagined what just happened. If it was a product of his dreams and a bit too much to drink – except the only thing he had was a glass of champagne.
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Huh?” Confusion barely penetrated the fog of desire.
“Me fixing your sartorial problems.”
“Ah – oh, yeah. Right.” Neal hoped he sounded coherent.
Peter looked at him, a strange, sad expression in his eyes. Not regret, but something close.
“I wish …”
Neal held up a hand, to stop the words. “Don’t. Don’t say anything.
Peter nodded. “I’d better go find El.”
“Yes - go. Find Elizabeth.” He pasted a smile back on his lips. “She promised me a dance.”
Peter turned and walked away. Neal thought about fleeing when he caught sight of El moving across the dance floor, as graceful as a swan in midnight blue Marchesa. Peter met her and before Neal could escape, she waved to him.
He pasted on his best smile, the one that fooled even Peter, and went to join them. It wasn’t as if things would be any different in the morning, he’d get through this.
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey (pre-Peter/Neal)
Spoilers: S3.14 (Pulling Strings)
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~ 900
Summary: Neal and Peter share a moment at Diana and Christie’s wedding.
A/N: Another fill for my friend
coffeethyme4me for her wonderful prompt: Peter/Neal, pre-slash/UST, They're alone; Peter straightens Neal's tie at Diana's wedding. They have a moment. Beta’d by the fabulous
jrosemary and rabidchild67, so naturally all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Your comments and feedback are always adored and appreciated. Title from Carbon Leaf’s album of the same name.The music was in full swing, the ballroom floor crowded with wedding guests, and Diana and Christie dancing so close, you couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other started. It didn’t help that both women were wearing white – Diana in a column of sleek satin, Christie in frothy tulle.
He had danced with both brides, with the brides’ mothers and grandmothers, with the aged aunties and teenaged cousins. He had made himself into the perfect guest. But the person he most wanted to dance with would not, could not dance with him.
Sitting this set out was probably for the best; the band was playing a medley of romantic standards. Perfect for slow dancing, the type of music where you really wanted to just cling to your partner, rest your head on their shoulder and shuffle around the dance floor.
Neal looked for Peter and Elizabeth, but couldn’t see either of them. He wondered if they had snuck off and found a closet. Both of them looked way too good for his peace of mind.
He sighed. He should have invited Sara. She would have been the perfect date – no expectations and the probability of some stellar after-party sex was good. But something kept him from asking. As a member of the wedding party, he had responsibilities. It would have been rude to bring Sara and ignore her for much of the evening. And that was a lie. One of many he’d been telling himself these past months.
Standing against the wall in a dark corner, watching the world drift by to the strains of Sade, Neal didn’t hear Peter approach.
“Everything all right?”
He did his best not to jump. He didn’t even turn his head, just looked at Peter out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, fine. Just taking a breather.”
“Nice wedding.”
Neal agreed, it was one of the finer affairs he’d actually been invited to. Peter said something else, and his answer was a non-committal, “hmm.” He really wasn’t paying attention to his attempts at banal conversation. It seemed that every cell in his body was reacting to the other man’s proximity.
“You gave quite performance out there. Didn’t know you could swing dance.” Peter remarked in an offhand manner.
He shrugged. “Something I liked to do, it’s like riding a bicycle.”
They stood there, close but not close enough. Or maybe too close for his peace of mind.
“What are you thinking?” Peter’s voice was oddly low; he had to strain to hear it.
“Nothing – nothing really.” You don’t want to know what I’m thinking. “Where’s Elizabeth?” He had to ask.
“Back in the kitchen, I think. There were some problems with the wedding cake – such are the joys of being a guest and the event planner.”
Peter was standing close enough that Neal could feel the body heat radiating off of him, and like a flower turning to the light, he turned to Peter. The smarter thing to do would have been to step away. But when it came to Peter, he was rarely smart.
Peter was smiling at him, wearing that irresistible half grin, his eyelids drooping – like a lion surveying his pride. Neal smiled back, gritted his teeth and willed himself not to get an erection.
Peter chuckled, the sound plucking at his self-control.
“What’s so funny?”
“You – I don’t ever think I’ve seen you look quite so … disheveled in your formalwear.”
Neal ran his hands through his hair and made to straighten his tie. He supposed the exertion from his forays on the dance floor had taken their toll on his grooming.
“Stop, stop – you’re making it worse.” Peter brushed his hands away and combed gentle fingers through his hair, tucking away an unruly curl. The intimacy of the moment made Neal forget how to breathe. The rough, callused edge of Peter’s index finger lingered on the upper edge of his ear, and every erogenous zone in his body reacted.
Peter’s hand slid down, fingers caressing his jaw, lingering on the exposed skin of his neck, tightening and straightening his bow tie, brushing down the shoulders of his jacket. “There – all fixed.”
Neal blinked, chilled as Peter stepped back. The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. He wondered if he imagined what just happened. If it was a product of his dreams and a bit too much to drink – except the only thing he had was a glass of champagne.
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Huh?” Confusion barely penetrated the fog of desire.
“Me fixing your sartorial problems.”
“Ah – oh, yeah. Right.” Neal hoped he sounded coherent.
Peter looked at him, a strange, sad expression in his eyes. Not regret, but something close.
“I wish …”
Neal held up a hand, to stop the words. “Don’t. Don’t say anything.
Peter nodded. “I’d better go find El.”
“Yes - go. Find Elizabeth.” He pasted a smile back on his lips. “She promised me a dance.”
Peter turned and walked away. Neal thought about fleeing when he caught sight of El moving across the dance floor, as graceful as a swan in midnight blue Marchesa. Peter met her and before Neal could escape, she waved to him.
He pasted on his best smile, the one that fooled even Peter, and went to join them. It wasn’t as if things would be any different in the morning, he’d get through this.
