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crack_van2010-10-25 10:45 pm
an-sceal.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-10-25 10:45 pm
Entry tags:
Two Hundred and Eight Weeks by Elandria Lore (R)
Fandom: WHITE COLLAR
Pairing: Peter/Neal/Elizabeth
Length: 3800 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elandrialore
Author Website: Fic tag on dreamwidth
Why this must be read: This may have been the first Neal/Peter/El story I read when I stumbled into White Collar fandom. It's written with a certain optimism that really appeals to me, and I love the flow from hurt/comfort, to new relationship panic, to established relationship angst. The final payoff remains one of my favourite takes on what might happen when Neal's tracker comes off. It was written early in season one, and a lot of canon isn't mentioned, but could be slotted into the weeks that aren't mentioned.
Peter’s grip on her hands is probably painful, but she doesn’t say anything, just breathes with him for a long moment until it becomes something steadier.
She smiles when it does, and then kisses him lightly on the mouth. “Better?” she asks, and Peter nods, because it’s all still building up inside him, but at least he’s got a handle on it now.
“Good,” she says, “Now listen.” She stares at him until she knows that he is and says, “This isn’t exactly the first time Neal’s been in our bed, is it?”
Her lips are curved in amusement and Peter thinks back to three years worth of nights he’d stayed awake chasing Neal the first time; piles of files and photos spilling out over the bed in a frustrated mess, and Neal Caffrey’s laughing eyes staring back at him.
But there’s a vast difference between papers spread out in their bed and Neal Caffery spread out in their bed, all pale skin and angles that cut deeper than any paper could dream.
“This is different,” Peter insists, and her smile grows.
“Yes,” she says, “it is.”
When she pulls him into a kiss, Peter goes easily, fitting his long body to the curves of hers. For several long, blissful moments it’s perfect.
And then it’s better.
A brief press of lips against his bare shoulder from behind; long, graceful fingers brushing over his stomach, dipping dangerously to where his pants hang low on his hips; a laughing mouth following the curve of his wife’s collar bone, and then down to the swell of her breast.
“Every morning should start like this,” Neal says huskily, looking up at him with bright eyes a moment before he drags Peter down for his own good morning kiss.
Yes, Peter thinks to the sound of Elizabeth’s delighted laugh. Yes, yes, yes.
Two Hundred and Eight Weeks
Pairing: Peter/Neal/Elizabeth
Length: 3800 words
Author on LJ:
elandrialoreAuthor Website: Fic tag on dreamwidth
Why this must be read: This may have been the first Neal/Peter/El story I read when I stumbled into White Collar fandom. It's written with a certain optimism that really appeals to me, and I love the flow from hurt/comfort, to new relationship panic, to established relationship angst. The final payoff remains one of my favourite takes on what might happen when Neal's tracker comes off. It was written early in season one, and a lot of canon isn't mentioned, but could be slotted into the weeks that aren't mentioned.
Peter’s grip on her hands is probably painful, but she doesn’t say anything, just breathes with him for a long moment until it becomes something steadier.
She smiles when it does, and then kisses him lightly on the mouth. “Better?” she asks, and Peter nods, because it’s all still building up inside him, but at least he’s got a handle on it now.
“Good,” she says, “Now listen.” She stares at him until she knows that he is and says, “This isn’t exactly the first time Neal’s been in our bed, is it?”
Her lips are curved in amusement and Peter thinks back to three years worth of nights he’d stayed awake chasing Neal the first time; piles of files and photos spilling out over the bed in a frustrated mess, and Neal Caffrey’s laughing eyes staring back at him.
But there’s a vast difference between papers spread out in their bed and Neal Caffery spread out in their bed, all pale skin and angles that cut deeper than any paper could dream.
“This is different,” Peter insists, and her smile grows.
“Yes,” she says, “it is.”
When she pulls him into a kiss, Peter goes easily, fitting his long body to the curves of hers. For several long, blissful moments it’s perfect.
And then it’s better.
A brief press of lips against his bare shoulder from behind; long, graceful fingers brushing over his stomach, dipping dangerously to where his pants hang low on his hips; a laughing mouth following the curve of his wife’s collar bone, and then down to the swell of her breast.
“Every morning should start like this,” Neal says huskily, looking up at him with bright eyes a moment before he drags Peter down for his own good morning kiss.
Yes, Peter thinks to the sound of Elizabeth’s delighted laugh. Yes, yes, yes.
Two Hundred and Eight Weeks
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Wrong URL
(Anonymous) 2010-10-26 05:30 am (UTC)(link)Re: Wrong URL