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elrhiarhodanTitle: Springtime in New York
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar RPS
Written For: MMOM 2013
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Matt Bomer (as a fictional character), Simon Halls (as a fictional character), Tim DeKay (as a fictional character) (Matt/Simon, Matt/Tim)
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~500
Summary: Matt has a little time to kill on his first morning back in New York.
A/N: Let’s ride that RPS bus straight to hell!
__________________
Another springtime, and the filming for another season of White Collar was about to start.
Matt stretched out on the sheets, enjoying the morning sunlight as it filtered through the trees and into his tiny bedroom. The first days back in New York were always a little weird. There was always the homesickness – waking up without Simon, without the kids and the dogs, the clatter and bustle of family life. It was like being a bachelor again; he enjoyed it but always felt a little guilty. New York was so much easier to deal with than LA. The paparazzi weren’t as pervasive (or as persistent), fans were both gracious and respectful of his privacy, and the denizens of the city were more likely to be annoyed by celebrity than attracted to it.
He checked the time. It was 6:30, still early, still plenty of time to be lazy. The first table read of the season wasn’t scheduled until noon, and he was meeting Willie before heading over to Silvercup, in Astoria. Time enough to indulge in a little, well, self-indulgence.
He reached for the bottle of hand cream on the nightstand and missed, spectacularly. It fell behind the furniture and there was no way that Matt was going to crawl under the bed to retrieve it. Instead, he licked his palm and closed his eyes, letting some of his favorite dirty fantasies take hold.
There was the one where Simon was dressed in a tuxedo and he was giving him a blow job in the back of a limo (which wasn’t so much a fantasy as a role-reversal of an event that actually happened). It got Matt started, but that was it. He tried another favorite – that time in Big Sur, on the balcony, under the stars.
And … nothing.
Matt sighed, relaxed and remembered that he was in New York, and New York belonged to Tim. His dick twitched, then got hard as a rock as he surrendered to one of his favorite fantasies. Tim in black leather, his gloved hand outstretched. He was naked, on his knees, his own hands cuffed.
Matt leaned his cheek against the glove, breathing the scent of warm leather and waited for Tim’s command.
“Lick it.”
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar RPS
Written For: MMOM 2013
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Matt Bomer (as a fictional character), Simon Halls (as a fictional character), Tim DeKay (as a fictional character) (Matt/Simon, Matt/Tim)
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~500
Summary: Matt has a little time to kill on his first morning back in New York.
A/N: Let’s ride that RPS bus straight to hell!
Another springtime, and the filming for another season of White Collar was about to start.
Matt stretched out on the sheets, enjoying the morning sunlight as it filtered through the trees and into his tiny bedroom. The first days back in New York were always a little weird. There was always the homesickness – waking up without Simon, without the kids and the dogs, the clatter and bustle of family life. It was like being a bachelor again; he enjoyed it but always felt a little guilty. New York was so much easier to deal with than LA. The paparazzi weren’t as pervasive (or as persistent), fans were both gracious and respectful of his privacy, and the denizens of the city were more likely to be annoyed by celebrity than attracted to it.
He checked the time. It was 6:30, still early, still plenty of time to be lazy. The first table read of the season wasn’t scheduled until noon, and he was meeting Willie before heading over to Silvercup, in Astoria. Time enough to indulge in a little, well, self-indulgence.
He reached for the bottle of hand cream on the nightstand and missed, spectacularly. It fell behind the furniture and there was no way that Matt was going to crawl under the bed to retrieve it. Instead, he licked his palm and closed his eyes, letting some of his favorite dirty fantasies take hold.
There was the one where Simon was dressed in a tuxedo and he was giving him a blow job in the back of a limo (which wasn’t so much a fantasy as a role-reversal of an event that actually happened). It got Matt started, but that was it. He tried another favorite – that time in Big Sur, on the balcony, under the stars.
And … nothing.
Matt sighed, relaxed and remembered that he was in New York, and New York belonged to Tim. His dick twitched, then got hard as a rock as he surrendered to one of his favorite fantasies. Tim in black leather, his gloved hand outstretched. He was naked, on his knees, his own hands cuffed.
Matt leaned his cheek against the glove, breathing the scent of warm leather and waited for Tim’s command.
“Lick it.”
