Summary: Oh the games our boys play....
A/N: Written for coffeethyme4me's 5 Acts meme
5:55 pm on Saturday afternoon. That was the precise moment in his life that Peter Burke knew he was royally fucked.
They were at Neal's working on some cold cases while Elizabeth was out of town. Cartons from their favorite Thai restaurant were spread out over the table.
Peter's file was spread out over his lap. That was to cover the raging hard-on he'd had since he got to Caffrey's apartment. Hell, if he were honest with himself - which only happened after several beers - he'd been having that problem continuously for the past month and a half. Every time the wind blew, it seemed. More specifically, every time Neal was in the vicinity. Which, of course, was all day, every day, and sometimes late into the night.
It made it damn hard to walk.
And damn hard to do anything else. Elizabeth thought it was funny as hell. She'd taken to calling him "Randy" and laughing hysterically. Of course, she was reaping the benefits. They would barely make it up to the bedroom after Neal left before her clothes would be half off and her face buried in the pillow while he fucked her from behind. Foreplay, be damned. Thank God, she liked it rough or Peter would have been living out of his suitcase in some dingy hotel.
Peter knew it was wrong. Oh, not to fantasize. He and El had an active fantasy life that included Jessica Alba, (him), Gerard Butler (her) and that dark-headed guy on the basic cable network show he could never remember the name of (them).
It was wrong to fantasize about Neal.
Neal was his partner. They worked together. He was his boss. He was responsible for him.
But fuck it if he didn't make it easy to do. Tailored suits cut just right to cup the curve of his ass. Artist's fingers that Peter could just imagine fingering him til he came. And God.....that mouth and those lips. Half the time Peter had no clue what Neal was saying because his brain kept going sideways thinking of all the ways he could use that mouth.
And if he didn't know better he would swear that Neal deliberately used word assocation to keep him off kilter.
Damned. That's all there was to it. Peter was damned and he was going to Hell because he couldn't stop thinking of a naked Neal Caffrey crawling up his body so he could sink himself down on Peter's cock.
Peter shuddered and tried to concentrate on the Miller file but every time Caffrey spoke, Peter wondered what it would feel like to have Neal nibble on his ear. His EAR for Christ's sake!
Ok. Think baseball. Mortgage Fraud. Hughes' staff meeting. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Not working!
Peter shifted to relieve his aching cock and must have made a noise because Neal glanced up at him. "You ok?"
"Yeah....just need another beer."
"I'll get it." Neal got up and got a beer and water out of the frig. Handing the beer to Peter, he leaned against the counter and took a long slow drink of his water. Watching him swallow, Peter almost whimpered and wondered if it would be considered rude to excuse himself to go to the bathroom and jack off. Neal looked at his watch. "Hey. It's 5:55 - make a wish."
"What?" said Peter, twisting the top off the beer so he had something to do with his hands.
"It's the Time Game. Make a wish."
"What are you talking about?"
"You never played the Time Game?"
"No, I've never played the Time Game."
"It's simple. Whenever the numbers are all the same on your watch, you make a wish." Neal replied. "Go ahead."
Peter wished he was anyplace but here; he wished he was kissing Neal, pinning him against the apartment door; he wished he was on his knees with Neal's cock in his mouth, methodically taking him apart with every movement of his lips and tongue; he wished he had Neal bent over the bed, his shirt pulled down around his wrists so he couldn't move, slamming into him until they both came so hard they couldn't see straight; he wished....
"C'mon Peter hurry up." Neal's voice interrupted the downward spiral of Peter's thoughts.
Shit, make something up! "Uh..."
Neal pushed away from the counter and walked around the table. He sat down, loose-limbed in the chair, legs spread out. He took another drink of his water and smiled toothily at Peter.
"Be careful what you wish for, though. You just might get it..."
And winked at him.
The sadistic little bastard KNEW.
He knew and he'd been fucking with Peter for God knows how long.
Peter looked at Neal lounging in his chair, brilliant smile on his face and lifted his beer in a toast.
You have no idea what you just started, Caffrey. Let the games begin....