MMoM Day 31: "Skin Deep (some other life)", Peter/(Neal), R
Title: Skin Deep (some other life)
Author: coffeethyme4me
Pairing: Peter/(Neal)
Rating: R
Words: 785
Written for: mmom day 31.
Thanks to: elrhiarhodan for the GREAT prompt: "Peter - He discovers that Neal posed for gay skin mags when he was down on his luck and needed money."
He’s an FBI agent. He’s an investigator. It’s what he does.
At first, when he finds the magazine, he feels sad. That Neal believed he had to do this. That he debased himself for a little bit of cash, probably just enough to keep the landlord off his back for, what, three months? It seems just like the art forgeries: Neal devaluing his own talent and worth. Neal’s misguided notion that who he is isn’t enough.
Peter sighs. He doesn’t want to see this Neal - this boy, twenty-two, smiling up from the page at him, fake, prostituting his image.
But he does want to see. He wants to study Neal Caffrey - everything about Neal Caffrey - the man who is now his CI, one month fresh out of prison. He needs to know what makes him who he is, why the charm is so successful. And what’s underneath.
Peter needs to know.
So he flips to the correct page. And there he is. Neal. Gorgeous. Of course. But this is minus the handsome smile. He’s not playing to the camera. This is not what Peter expected.
Peter swallows. Neal is in a white t-shirt, but it is shimmied up to reveal his chest, his nipples. It’s bunched up just under his collar bone, under his arms. And then there is his cock. Neal’s erect cock. And Peter realizes that this is a mistake. He shouldn’t ever see this. It’s not something he needs to see. But now that he’s looking, he can’t tear his eyes away.
Neal’s cock is long and proud. His hand is wrapped around the base, and it leans, heavy, toward his left hip. His bottom half is naked. The shirt, the bunched up shirt, just makes him seem more so. It’s somehow perverse, an insult, a tawdry decoration. But Neal’s face, his expression above it… This is what moves Peter the most. His eyes are dark and truthful. He’s not smiling, but his lips are parted.
Neal’s aroused. Really aroused. Real.
And this is what has made Peter hard.
He knew Neal would be beautiful. He didn’t know he’d be real. That he would see the same sweet, eager, kind….
Peter closes his eyes. His hard-on is raging. He won’t take it out. He feels like that would be cheating on El and unfair to Neal, both. But he opens his eyes again. He can’t not. He has to face what he’s uncovered. He can’t unknow it.
He has to face what Neal does to him.
He strokes just his fingertips along the fly of his pants, next to the zipper, where the cotton is just a bit more threadbare. His cock leaks. Neal is looking at him with soulful eyes. Neal is holding his cock out for Peter: “Take me. I’m yours. Take me.” Peter can’t help imagining pushing those legs up, revealing the way in.
If only Neal had been smiling. If only Peter had flipped the page open on his classic charm. But he didn’t. He found this. He found *his* Neal lying here. Ready.
Peter takes short, quiet breaths as he stares into Neal’s eyes and tickles the length of his cock.
This is just a kid. This isn’t the Neal that he knows. This is what Peter tells himself. And it doesn’t work. There is something eternal about Neal. Something ancient in their relationship - their chase and capture. It’s all laid bare in front of him. And all Peter wants to do is bury himself inside Neal’s willing body and end his own suffering.
Peter stops himself. He throws the magazine down and takes his hand from his fly. He puts his head in his hands. If he does this, there is no going back. He will still have to face Neal on Monday morning - the desire will still be there, the sadness, the guilt - but maybe they will be manageable. Whereas, if he comes… If he comes on Neal’s exposed nipples, his perfect stomach, his aching cock…that will be the beginning of the end.
Peter puts the magazine away. He doesn’t toss it out. He rationalizes that this is because he doesn’t want to take the chance that someone could find it in the trash. But truthfully, he simply can’t bring himself to do it.
He hides the magazine inside a box of unwanted holiday sweaters his mother has made for him over the years. He runs his hands over his face. He is still painfully erect.
Peter starts a shower, the water cold. He can’t yet erase the expression on Neal’s face as he steps under the wicked spray. But he can hope, with time, that he’ll forget.
Someday.
Some far away day.
Some other life.
Author: coffeethyme4me
Pairing: Peter/(Neal)
Rating: R
Words: 785
Written for: mmom day 31.
Thanks to: elrhiarhodan for the GREAT prompt: "Peter - He discovers that Neal posed for gay skin mags when he was down on his luck and needed money."
He’s an FBI agent. He’s an investigator. It’s what he does.
At first, when he finds the magazine, he feels sad. That Neal believed he had to do this. That he debased himself for a little bit of cash, probably just enough to keep the landlord off his back for, what, three months? It seems just like the art forgeries: Neal devaluing his own talent and worth. Neal’s misguided notion that who he is isn’t enough.
Peter sighs. He doesn’t want to see this Neal - this boy, twenty-two, smiling up from the page at him, fake, prostituting his image.
But he does want to see. He wants to study Neal Caffrey - everything about Neal Caffrey - the man who is now his CI, one month fresh out of prison. He needs to know what makes him who he is, why the charm is so successful. And what’s underneath.
Peter needs to know.
So he flips to the correct page. And there he is. Neal. Gorgeous. Of course. But this is minus the handsome smile. He’s not playing to the camera. This is not what Peter expected.
Peter swallows. Neal is in a white t-shirt, but it is shimmied up to reveal his chest, his nipples. It’s bunched up just under his collar bone, under his arms. And then there is his cock. Neal’s erect cock. And Peter realizes that this is a mistake. He shouldn’t ever see this. It’s not something he needs to see. But now that he’s looking, he can’t tear his eyes away.
Neal’s cock is long and proud. His hand is wrapped around the base, and it leans, heavy, toward his left hip. His bottom half is naked. The shirt, the bunched up shirt, just makes him seem more so. It’s somehow perverse, an insult, a tawdry decoration. But Neal’s face, his expression above it… This is what moves Peter the most. His eyes are dark and truthful. He’s not smiling, but his lips are parted.
Neal’s aroused. Really aroused. Real.
And this is what has made Peter hard.
He knew Neal would be beautiful. He didn’t know he’d be real. That he would see the same sweet, eager, kind….
Peter closes his eyes. His hard-on is raging. He won’t take it out. He feels like that would be cheating on El and unfair to Neal, both. But he opens his eyes again. He can’t not. He has to face what he’s uncovered. He can’t unknow it.
He has to face what Neal does to him.
He strokes just his fingertips along the fly of his pants, next to the zipper, where the cotton is just a bit more threadbare. His cock leaks. Neal is looking at him with soulful eyes. Neal is holding his cock out for Peter: “Take me. I’m yours. Take me.” Peter can’t help imagining pushing those legs up, revealing the way in.
If only Neal had been smiling. If only Peter had flipped the page open on his classic charm. But he didn’t. He found this. He found *his* Neal lying here. Ready.
Peter takes short, quiet breaths as he stares into Neal’s eyes and tickles the length of his cock.
This is just a kid. This isn’t the Neal that he knows. This is what Peter tells himself. And it doesn’t work. There is something eternal about Neal. Something ancient in their relationship - their chase and capture. It’s all laid bare in front of him. And all Peter wants to do is bury himself inside Neal’s willing body and end his own suffering.
Peter stops himself. He throws the magazine down and takes his hand from his fly. He puts his head in his hands. If he does this, there is no going back. He will still have to face Neal on Monday morning - the desire will still be there, the sadness, the guilt - but maybe they will be manageable. Whereas, if he comes… If he comes on Neal’s exposed nipples, his perfect stomach, his aching cock…that will be the beginning of the end.
Peter puts the magazine away. He doesn’t toss it out. He rationalizes that this is because he doesn’t want to take the chance that someone could find it in the trash. But truthfully, he simply can’t bring himself to do it.
He hides the magazine inside a box of unwanted holiday sweaters his mother has made for him over the years. He runs his hands over his face. He is still painfully erect.
Peter starts a shower, the water cold. He can’t yet erase the expression on Neal’s face as he steps under the wicked spray. But he can hope, with time, that he’ll forget.
Someday.
Some far away day.
Some other life.