![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: All Ears
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathierif_fic
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: Neal Caffrey/Peter Burke
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Warnings: fuzzy ears. Slash.
Word Count: 1347
Summary: He knew the second he opened his eyes that something was wrong, that something about his body had changed overnight.
Author’s Notes: Written for![[community profile]](https://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo, prompt: plushie/furry.
He knew the second he opened his eyes that something was wrong, that something about his body had changed overnight, even if that shouldn’t be possible, not with a man of his age, or any man at all in the first place.
The muted sounds of the city around him were a lot sharper, a lot more in focus than he remembered them having been the day before, and it caused a raging, splitting headache – or the headache made him think all sounds were louder, he didn’t know and he wasn’t even the slightest bit in the mood to try and figure it out, not this morning.
He groaned and rolled out of bed to pad on bare feet into the bathroom. Maybe, he figured, he would feel better after a long, hot shower, and after taking a painkiller. Funny, he didn’t even remember drinking that much the night before. In fact, there had been almost no drinking at all – not enough to make him feel like he did right now.
He stared into the bathroom mirror bleary-eyed – and kept on staring while his mind refused to process what his eyes saw.
The face staring back at him was his own, familiar face, the one he had kept looking at for decades now – the same eyes, the same chin, the same nose, the same dark hair falling into the same forehead.
Everything was the way it was supposed to be, except he didn’t remember those fluffy, pointed, definitely not human ears growing out of his head.
On first glance, they looked like the ears of a fox or a cat – the outside was covered with short, velvety soft hair, almost feathery, in the same color like his normal hair. Coarser hair grew along the inside edge, longer and lighter, but not enough to cover the delicate pink skin of the shell of the ear completely.
Right now, the ears twitched nervously and turned sideways and down defensively – a clear indicator of how he felt, with no doubt.
Neal sighed. He had no idea what had happened, how he was going to return to his normal state of being, or if that was possible in the first place, but all that could wait for now.
First, he needed that shower and that painkiller, and then, he could call Mozzie.
His new ears, he quickly figured out, were a lot more sensitive than his old ones. The sound of every single drop of water hitting the tiles or the tub he was standing in was as loud as the sound of a bullet fired at him, and besides that, they were at a perfect angle to run full of water if he wasn’t careful. By the time he finished his shower, the ears were pressed flat to his skull and he felt miserable.
He didn’t even get the chance to call Mozzie about this either. He was barely dressed, his hair still wet and curling when the ears picked out the familiar sound of Peter’s steps approaching.
There was no time to run and hide, and Peter would track him down anyway, so Neal didn’t even try. Instead, he grabbed his hat and forced his ears underneath it. It hurt, and he barely bit back the yelp, but with a little luck, Peter wouldn’t ever find out what had happened to him here.
By the time the FBI-Agent entered the room, Neal was leaning back in his chair, seemingly relaxed and without a single care in the world.
Peter frowned as he looked down at Neal. “What’s with the hat?” he asked, instantly suspicious, and without hesitation.
Neal winced. He felt the muscles of his new ears twitch as they reacted to his mood – twitch hard enough to make the hat move.
It wasn’t enough to knock it off his head, but the shift brought Peter’s attention right where Neal didn’t want it.
“Neal?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow, a mixture of exasperation and wariness and worry in his voice.
“Yes, Peter?” He tried to go for carefree and innocent with his reply, but the ears betrayed him and twitched again.
“Something you want to tell me?” Peter asked. “Don’t tell me you have a thieving rat under your hat that controls you.”
“It’s not that,” Neal said. “It’s…”
He hesitated. What was he supposed to tell Peter now? What could he tell him that Peter would believe and accept, without sounding like a raging lunatic?
“Then what is it?” Peter asked, a hint of impatience sneaking into his voice, and Neal opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
Not a single word.
He closed it with an audible snap and with a resigned shrug pulled off his hat. There was no way he could have kept this hidden from Peter, and Neal knew how to pick his battles.
This was one he couldn’t win.
The ears twitched and swiveled toward Peter, who stared at them with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
“I have no idea where these came from,” Neal hastily said. “I didn’t do anything, Peter.”
Peter stepped closer without acknowledging that Neal had said anything, his attention focused completely on those ears. Neal could almost hear that attention, and it made his skin crawl and his ears flatten again, no matter how much he tried to hide it. For a conman, these ears were a disaster, he decided, giving him away all the time.
Peter swallowed nervously and liked his lips. “Can I…can I touch them?” he asked, his voice strangled and oddly breathless. He was already reaching out, his hand hovering mid-air, waiting for Neal’s permission, and when Neal shrugged and tilted his head in invitation, he brushed a single fingertip against the soft, furry edge of Neal’s ear.
The touch went through Neal like an electric current, straight to his dick. He couldn’t hold back the shocked gasp, and Peter smirked at him and stroked his ear again, against the grain of the fur this time.
There was no way he didn’t see how his simple touch aroused Neal and made his dick harden, and if his smirk was anything to go by, he enjoyed what he was doing to Neal. He rubbed his fingertips over the short, velvety fur of the ear, traced the outline of it with teasingly light touches that made Neal’s ear twitch again, dipped his finger into the ear, where the skin was even more sensitive, and Neal couldn’t control himself any longer.
He came with a strangled gasp, body almost doubling over with the force of his orgasm, come hot and sticky in his underwear, soaking through them and his pants, and all the time, Peter hadn’t let go of his ear and kept fondling it, touches light, meant to be soothing and still almost painfully arousing. Neal tried to focus on his breathing and get it even again, to appear relaxed, but he had trouble with it, and he took a ragged, deep breath to tell Peter to stop when somewhere, a cell phone started ringing.
His cell phone.
Neal reached for it, but before he could answer it or even figure out how to answer it, with his ears still burning ant twitching, the world around him became blurry.
With a start he woke up, his pajamas clinging uncomfortably and wet to his skin.
His phone was still ringing, and he grabbed it with one hand while feeling for his ear with the other.
It was, to his great relief, a normal human ear, and while he pressed the cool plastic of the phone against it, his mind was already busying trying to figure out what that weird dream could have meant…and why he had dreamed about Peter, of all people, to get him off.
It looked as if there were some strange things going on in his sub-consciousness, he thought while listening to Peter’s voice telling him about a new case. Something strange he had to figure out soon, before things became awkward.
As if his life wasn’t complicated enough already…
~end
Author:
kathierif_ficFandom: White Collar
Pairing: Neal Caffrey/Peter Burke
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Warnings: fuzzy ears. Slash.
Word Count: 1347
Summary: He knew the second he opened his eyes that something was wrong, that something about his body had changed overnight.
Author’s Notes: Written for
kink_bingo, prompt: plushie/furry. He knew the second he opened his eyes that something was wrong, that something about his body had changed overnight, even if that shouldn’t be possible, not with a man of his age, or any man at all in the first place.
The muted sounds of the city around him were a lot sharper, a lot more in focus than he remembered them having been the day before, and it caused a raging, splitting headache – or the headache made him think all sounds were louder, he didn’t know and he wasn’t even the slightest bit in the mood to try and figure it out, not this morning.
He groaned and rolled out of bed to pad on bare feet into the bathroom. Maybe, he figured, he would feel better after a long, hot shower, and after taking a painkiller. Funny, he didn’t even remember drinking that much the night before. In fact, there had been almost no drinking at all – not enough to make him feel like he did right now.
He stared into the bathroom mirror bleary-eyed – and kept on staring while his mind refused to process what his eyes saw.
The face staring back at him was his own, familiar face, the one he had kept looking at for decades now – the same eyes, the same chin, the same nose, the same dark hair falling into the same forehead.
Everything was the way it was supposed to be, except he didn’t remember those fluffy, pointed, definitely not human ears growing out of his head.
On first glance, they looked like the ears of a fox or a cat – the outside was covered with short, velvety soft hair, almost feathery, in the same color like his normal hair. Coarser hair grew along the inside edge, longer and lighter, but not enough to cover the delicate pink skin of the shell of the ear completely.
Right now, the ears twitched nervously and turned sideways and down defensively – a clear indicator of how he felt, with no doubt.
Neal sighed. He had no idea what had happened, how he was going to return to his normal state of being, or if that was possible in the first place, but all that could wait for now.
First, he needed that shower and that painkiller, and then, he could call Mozzie.
His new ears, he quickly figured out, were a lot more sensitive than his old ones. The sound of every single drop of water hitting the tiles or the tub he was standing in was as loud as the sound of a bullet fired at him, and besides that, they were at a perfect angle to run full of water if he wasn’t careful. By the time he finished his shower, the ears were pressed flat to his skull and he felt miserable.
He didn’t even get the chance to call Mozzie about this either. He was barely dressed, his hair still wet and curling when the ears picked out the familiar sound of Peter’s steps approaching.
There was no time to run and hide, and Peter would track him down anyway, so Neal didn’t even try. Instead, he grabbed his hat and forced his ears underneath it. It hurt, and he barely bit back the yelp, but with a little luck, Peter wouldn’t ever find out what had happened to him here.
By the time the FBI-Agent entered the room, Neal was leaning back in his chair, seemingly relaxed and without a single care in the world.
Peter frowned as he looked down at Neal. “What’s with the hat?” he asked, instantly suspicious, and without hesitation.
Neal winced. He felt the muscles of his new ears twitch as they reacted to his mood – twitch hard enough to make the hat move.
It wasn’t enough to knock it off his head, but the shift brought Peter’s attention right where Neal didn’t want it.
“Neal?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow, a mixture of exasperation and wariness and worry in his voice.
“Yes, Peter?” He tried to go for carefree and innocent with his reply, but the ears betrayed him and twitched again.
“Something you want to tell me?” Peter asked. “Don’t tell me you have a thieving rat under your hat that controls you.”
“It’s not that,” Neal said. “It’s…”
He hesitated. What was he supposed to tell Peter now? What could he tell him that Peter would believe and accept, without sounding like a raging lunatic?
“Then what is it?” Peter asked, a hint of impatience sneaking into his voice, and Neal opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
Not a single word.
He closed it with an audible snap and with a resigned shrug pulled off his hat. There was no way he could have kept this hidden from Peter, and Neal knew how to pick his battles.
This was one he couldn’t win.
The ears twitched and swiveled toward Peter, who stared at them with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
“I have no idea where these came from,” Neal hastily said. “I didn’t do anything, Peter.”
Peter stepped closer without acknowledging that Neal had said anything, his attention focused completely on those ears. Neal could almost hear that attention, and it made his skin crawl and his ears flatten again, no matter how much he tried to hide it. For a conman, these ears were a disaster, he decided, giving him away all the time.
Peter swallowed nervously and liked his lips. “Can I…can I touch them?” he asked, his voice strangled and oddly breathless. He was already reaching out, his hand hovering mid-air, waiting for Neal’s permission, and when Neal shrugged and tilted his head in invitation, he brushed a single fingertip against the soft, furry edge of Neal’s ear.
The touch went through Neal like an electric current, straight to his dick. He couldn’t hold back the shocked gasp, and Peter smirked at him and stroked his ear again, against the grain of the fur this time.
There was no way he didn’t see how his simple touch aroused Neal and made his dick harden, and if his smirk was anything to go by, he enjoyed what he was doing to Neal. He rubbed his fingertips over the short, velvety fur of the ear, traced the outline of it with teasingly light touches that made Neal’s ear twitch again, dipped his finger into the ear, where the skin was even more sensitive, and Neal couldn’t control himself any longer.
He came with a strangled gasp, body almost doubling over with the force of his orgasm, come hot and sticky in his underwear, soaking through them and his pants, and all the time, Peter hadn’t let go of his ear and kept fondling it, touches light, meant to be soothing and still almost painfully arousing. Neal tried to focus on his breathing and get it even again, to appear relaxed, but he had trouble with it, and he took a ragged, deep breath to tell Peter to stop when somewhere, a cell phone started ringing.
His cell phone.
Neal reached for it, but before he could answer it or even figure out how to answer it, with his ears still burning ant twitching, the world around him became blurry.
With a start he woke up, his pajamas clinging uncomfortably and wet to his skin.
His phone was still ringing, and he grabbed it with one hand while feeling for his ear with the other.
It was, to his great relief, a normal human ear, and while he pressed the cool plastic of the phone against it, his mind was already busying trying to figure out what that weird dream could have meant…and why he had dreamed about Peter, of all people, to get him off.
It looked as if there were some strange things going on in his sub-consciousness, he thought while listening to Peter’s voice telling him about a new case. Something strange he had to figure out soon, before things became awkward.
As if his life wasn’t complicated enough already…
~end