Author's Notes: This was inspired by a very funny reaction post on livejournal by Shea to episode 1.09 Bad Judgement in which comments were made about Matt Bomer's butt. I couldn't help myself. (It didn't help that as I was watching the episode with pathera there was much usage of the pause button.) Anyway, there is no plot, this is all for your satisfaction. As the title implies, Peter and Neal are playing a game and the first half is technically from Peter's persepective and the second is from Neal's. This is slash and it is dirty. Don't like, don't read.
Pairing: Peter/Neal
Rating: M for sexual situations (Though I do not consider this explicit, it may be for some. So, consider this your warning. Tread carefully.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Not a thing! (Not even shame!) I am not making any money off of this! I am also not the queen of porn and I tend to be a bit vague and for this I offer my sincere apologies.
A Game of Monopoly
Peter slips into the bathroom as quickly as possible making sure no one is watching. He flicks the latch on the door and smirks at the solid sound of the bolt locking them in. Neal looks at him through his reflection in the mirror as he washes his hands. As always, his eyes are curious and playful in their blue. As always, he is not taking this seriously.
"Hello, Peter," he says. "Aren't other people going to want to use this bathroom, too?"
"They'll wait." Peter's tone is icy and Neal wonders for a moment if he's miscalculated. But, as Peter moves toward him, there is amusement on his face and Neal stops worrying, until he says, "I know what you did."
"What I did when?" Excitement and fear begin to bubble in his chest, but innocence is the feeling he wants to convey.
"What you did to plant the bug." There is venom in Peter's voice, beneath the amusement.
"You wanted the bug on his desk," Neal says with a smirk, drying his hands, "So I did what I had to. I was following your orders, Peter." He hardly has time to take a breath before Peter slams him, face first, into the wall. He can't help the gasp that escapes his lips as the air is forced from his lungs or the subsequent grunt as Peter presses almost violently against him.
"I know you think this is funny," Peter says in a dangerous whisper. "I know you love that when you walk into a room all eyes are on you, that when you walk down the street every man and woman you pass wants to be the one to take you home. I know you loved playing Bridgeton today. You loved that Bridgeton wanted you so bad he would have surrendered if we promised him twenty minutes alone with you."
"He had twenty minutes alone with me." The backtalk only gets his head pushed roughly back into the wall.
"You don't get it, Neal," Peter says directly in his ear. His moist breath makes Neal shiver and he whimpers shamefully as a hot tongue snakes around the shell of his ear. "You just don't get it." The shivers are getting worse as Peter drags his hands down his sides.
"What don't I get," he replies in breathy whisper.
"This." Peter roughly grabs Neal's ass with both hands and pushes his hips into the wall. He's hard. Neal can feel him through the fabric of their clothing and a spike of lust rushes through him. His own erection is trapped painfully between his body and the wall. It only arouses him more.
"This," Peter continues, hands suddenly gentle as they stroke the finely clad cheeks before him, "is mine." He digs his fingers into flesh hard enough to hurt. Neal moans and actually attempts to thrust into the wall. The chuckle behind him makes him do it again.
"It's mine." As he grinds out the phrase, he nips at Neal's already sweaty neck. He slides his hands around his partner's body to unbuckle his belt. He pops the button on his trousers and pulls the zipper down slowly. As his hands ghost over Neal's cock, the younger man lets out a breathy whisper of "Oh, God." Peter smirks and slides his hands down the back of Neal's underwear. They both close their eyes at the pleasure of flesh to flesh contact.
"Peter…" The half moan, half whimper is barely audible as Peter massages the perfect globes in his hands. He runs one hand between them and lets the tips of his fingers brush lightly over Neal's entrance. Neal's whole body tenses and he turns his head to gasp out "Oh, please."
"Please, what?" Peter's lips are pressed to his ear and he brushes one finger over Neal's entrance. "Please, claim you?" He presses the finger against the opening. "Please, take you?" He presses harder and says a little more gently, "Do you want this?"
"Yes. Yes!" Neal gasps through cherry red lips, his eyes closed and cheeks flushed. He steels himself for the uncomfortable feeling of a dry finger, but nothing comes. All sensation disappears. Neal whips around. "What the hell?"
"You're going to wait," Peter says, playful smirk tugging at his lips. He turns and walks to the door. Neal opens his mouth to protest. "You're mine." Peter cuts him off before he can speak. "You do what I say. Come on, Caffrey, there are other people who need to use this bathroom." With that he unlocks the door and is gone.
***
One week later, Neal Caffrey is pacing agitatedly around his bedroom. Everything is going just the way he wanted it to. Everything except one thing and that one thing is Peter. He hadn't actually expected Peter to win this game or to be able to last a week of teasing without demanding more. He'd been wrong. Oh, so wrong. Peter knew exactly how to touch Neal. He would run a hand over his ass just before getting out of the elevator or grope his thigh before getting out the car. He's had enough and tonight Neal is going to forfeit and make Peter's victory legitimate.
When the knock at the door comes, Neal is ready. He's so ready that he's already prepped himself so he won't have to wait. He opens the door and yanks Peter inside via his tacky tie. He pushes him against the door and kisses him hard as he works the tie loose and begins to unbutton the too long line of buttons on his shirt. Peter threads his hand through Neal's hair and pulls his head closer into a deeper kiss. They both moan when Neal gets Peter's pants open and slips a hand inside. He gives a few tugs just to prove to Peter he means business.
"Guess I won?" Peter asks breathlessly as they break apart.
"Yeah, you won," Neal replies impatiently tugging Peter toward his bedroom. There is barely enough time to shut the door before Neal has his sweatpants off and is on his knees spreading his legs.
"On the floor? You sure about that," Peter asks in concern as he pulls his shirt and jacket off.
"Yes, the floor! Damn it, Peter, come on. Come on. Come on," he chants.
Peter doesn't even bother to take his pants off before he takes his place behind Neal. He runs one hand down his back while he uses the other to position himself. There is a pause. Then, without much warning, he slams home. Neal's head whips back in a silent scream and his body bows. There isn't much time to adjust before Peter pulls out and slams back in. As Neal begins to move with him, Peter thrusts harder forcing moans out of his partner. When his moans turn into little exclamations of pleasure and incoherencies, Peter reaches around and grasps Neal's neglected cock. Now, he's caught between the ever pressing pressure on his prostate and the delicious slip/slide on his cock.
"God," Peter grunts. "You're so slick."
"Wanted it," replies Neal breathlessly. "Wanted it so bad. Oh, God, harder! Please! Yes! Oh, Peter, yes! I'm- I-I'm going to-"
Neal throws back his head and lets out a wordless scream as his orgasm rips through him. He shivers and shakes through it. Peter groans and thrusts once, twice more before he comes so hard he has to bite Neal's shoulder to keep from screaming himself. They collapse together on the floor. It takes ten minutes before either of them can speak.
"I think I'm going to get my name tattooed right here," Peter says giving Neal's bottom a soft smack.
"I hate to break it to you, Peter, but you can't actually claim a monopoly on my butt," Neal says with a chuckle.
"I think I already have." Peter smiles and Neal leans up and kisses him.
"Alright, I'll admit it. I'm yours. But, Peter, next time we play this game, we're switching roles."
"Fine, if you think it'll help your chances of winning."
"Oh, I think it will," Neal says with a wink.
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