Amor Est Maximum Thesaurum
Title: Amor Est Maximum Thesaurum
Author: theatregirl7299
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairings: Neal/Peter
Rating: R
Word Count: 560
Spoilers: None
Beta Credit: elrhiarhodan
Warnings: None
Summary: Sometimes the greatest treasure is not gold.
A/N: This is in response to treonb’s prompt of “blank piece of paper” for run_the_con. The English translation of the title is "Love is the Greatest Treasure."
I tag hoosierbitch with the prompt “You don’t know me.”
Scratch…scratch…
The sound of charcoal sliding against paper played a soft counterpoint to the steady breathing of the figure slumbering in the bed.
The early morning sun breaking over the balcony cast golden beams through the French doors, designing intricate plays of shadow and light that no human could recreate.
Magic Time. The moment when God kissed the world.
Neal sat curled up on the couch, sketchbook balanced on his knee, working feverishly against the growing light before it dissipated into the day.
Trying to capture Peter on paper.
His eyes travelled over his lover’s still form, marveling at the natural beauty. Even in sleep, Peter radiated honesty, integrity in every sinew, every corded muscle. Sleek and lithe, one leg bent, sheet wrapped artlessly around his body. Strength at complete rest.
Never in his wildest dreams had he ever expected to have Peter Burke naked and in his bed. Neal paused to truly appreciate what Peter kept hidden under his off-the-rack suits and ugly ties.
The broad shoulders that Neal had hung on to while Peter kissed him so senseless that his legs gave out from under him. Hips that fit perfectly between Neal’s thighs as Peter entered him, maddingly slow that first time. The curve of his ass. And damn if Peter Burke didn’t have a fine ass.
Slowly the image took form. The line of Peter’s back. Arms tucked under the pillow. Face turned slightly towards him, a half smile softening Peter’s features.
As he drew, Neal thought about where they had been just a few short months ago versus where they were now. It still amazed him that throughout all the miscommunication, misunderstandings and errors in judgment, Peter had enough faith in him to give him the benefit of the doubt; to give him the benefit of his body; but most of all, to give him the benefit of his heart.
Mozzie might go on and on about the perfect score; that one final job, but Neal knew he had the biggest treasure lying right in front of him. And he didn’t need to run a con to get it. He had just needed to ask. And Peter gave.
The silence was comfortable as Neal added details to the image. The mussed hair, slightly open mouth, shaded neck with a hint of Peter’s mole.
His subject stirred and blinked sleep-filled eyes. Neal felt warmth fill his body as Peter focused on him, a soft smile breaking across his face.
“Hey.” Peter’s voice was rough - and the sexiest thing Neal had ever heard.
“Hey.” Neal’s reply was quiet, reverent.
“What are you doing?”
“Drawing you.” Neal continued to sketch, fully aware that once Peter was more alert, he would protest.
“Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful.” The words were simple, truthful. As honest as the image on the paper.
Blushing, Peter reached out a hand. “Come back to bed.”
“I’m almost done.”
“Please?”
The look on Peter’s face had Neal putting the sketchpad on the coffee table. His drawing could wait.
Sliding under the covers and into Peter’s arms, Neal reached out and ran his finger gently down the side of Peter’s face. “I love you.”
Peter kissed him. “I know.” They shifted and Neal found himself tucked under Peter’s chin. “I love you too. Now sleep.”
Smiling, Neal closed his eyes. Curling into Peter’s chest, he did just that.
Fin
Author: theatregirl7299
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairings: Neal/Peter
Rating: R
Word Count: 560
Spoilers: None
Beta Credit: elrhiarhodan
Warnings: None
Summary: Sometimes the greatest treasure is not gold.
A/N: This is in response to treonb’s prompt of “blank piece of paper” for run_the_con. The English translation of the title is "Love is the Greatest Treasure."
I tag hoosierbitch with the prompt “You don’t know me.”
Scratch…scratch…
The sound of charcoal sliding against paper played a soft counterpoint to the steady breathing of the figure slumbering in the bed.
The early morning sun breaking over the balcony cast golden beams through the French doors, designing intricate plays of shadow and light that no human could recreate.
Magic Time. The moment when God kissed the world.
Neal sat curled up on the couch, sketchbook balanced on his knee, working feverishly against the growing light before it dissipated into the day.
Trying to capture Peter on paper.
His eyes travelled over his lover’s still form, marveling at the natural beauty. Even in sleep, Peter radiated honesty, integrity in every sinew, every corded muscle. Sleek and lithe, one leg bent, sheet wrapped artlessly around his body. Strength at complete rest.
Never in his wildest dreams had he ever expected to have Peter Burke naked and in his bed. Neal paused to truly appreciate what Peter kept hidden under his off-the-rack suits and ugly ties.
The broad shoulders that Neal had hung on to while Peter kissed him so senseless that his legs gave out from under him. Hips that fit perfectly between Neal’s thighs as Peter entered him, maddingly slow that first time. The curve of his ass. And damn if Peter Burke didn’t have a fine ass.
Slowly the image took form. The line of Peter’s back. Arms tucked under the pillow. Face turned slightly towards him, a half smile softening Peter’s features.
As he drew, Neal thought about where they had been just a few short months ago versus where they were now. It still amazed him that throughout all the miscommunication, misunderstandings and errors in judgment, Peter had enough faith in him to give him the benefit of the doubt; to give him the benefit of his body; but most of all, to give him the benefit of his heart.
Mozzie might go on and on about the perfect score; that one final job, but Neal knew he had the biggest treasure lying right in front of him. And he didn’t need to run a con to get it. He had just needed to ask. And Peter gave.
The silence was comfortable as Neal added details to the image. The mussed hair, slightly open mouth, shaded neck with a hint of Peter’s mole.
His subject stirred and blinked sleep-filled eyes. Neal felt warmth fill his body as Peter focused on him, a soft smile breaking across his face.
“Hey.” Peter’s voice was rough - and the sexiest thing Neal had ever heard.
“Hey.” Neal’s reply was quiet, reverent.
“What are you doing?”
“Drawing you.” Neal continued to sketch, fully aware that once Peter was more alert, he would protest.
“Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful.” The words were simple, truthful. As honest as the image on the paper.
Blushing, Peter reached out a hand. “Come back to bed.”
“I’m almost done.”
“Please?”
The look on Peter’s face had Neal putting the sketchpad on the coffee table. His drawing could wait.
Sliding under the covers and into Peter’s arms, Neal reached out and ran his finger gently down the side of Peter’s face. “I love you.”
Peter kissed him. “I know.” They shifted and Neal found himself tucked under Peter’s chin. “I love you too. Now sleep.”
Smiling, Neal closed his eyes. Curling into Peter’s chest, he did just that.
Fin