Chapter 7: The Kiss

Neal sipped the dark wine. It tasted bitter and sweet in his mouth. He licked his lips, savoring the flavor. Mozzie left this bottle at his apartment a while ago and Neal felt it was in his right to enjoy the pleasures of it now. Neal's eyes traveled back to the painting he had been working on. Lately he hadn't been motivated or even inspired to pick up his paint brush. All inspiration died when Peter was in the hospital.

Now he was painting again. He was recreating a piece from one of Kilmt's works. After reviewing all of the artist's pieces because of the case he was working on with Peter, he felt that spark of passion to paint again. Usually he painted only to con or forge. Tonight, he did it to calm his mind and soul.

He spent the past two days with Peter since his return to the job and everything had changed between them. Everything. Tonight he refused to dwell on it, so he painted. Neal wanted to lose himself in this. He wanted to forget the images and emotions that haunted him. Images of Peter, bleeding and broken on a hospital bed, the need that burned in those brown eyes when they kissed, the fear Neal felt when he thought Peter wouldn't make it, the rage he that coursed through him when he realized how he wanted to kill the man who shot Peter. The shooter- Victor Niltz. It was only a matter of time before Neal got his revenge.

He lost track of time and forgot his worries. Hours or mere minutes passed, he didn't care of know. Vivid colors, the scent of oil, the soft sounds of the brush stroking against the canvas filled his senses… suddenly there was a light knock on his door. Neal pulled his gaze from the painting and to the door. Reluctantly, he set his brush and oils down besides his empty wine glass on the table. He glanced up at the clock, it was past midnight and he wasn't exactly dressed for company, he wore only his faded jeans. Neal looked around the room for the shirt he had discarded early but when the knock persisted, he sighed indignantly and walked barefoot to the door.

The door opened to reveal Peter. Neal felt his heart lurch. He took pleasure at the sight of his FBI agent. Peter wore a black t-shirt and jeans, casual and laid back. The blackness of his shirt made his eyes seem darker, more intense. Neal watched as Peter's eyes traveled down the length of his nude torso, the heat unmistakable as he paused over the crotch of his jeans. Neal felt a rush of anticipation, his knees wobbled beneath him and his cock instantly responded to Pete's hot gaze.

Neal cracked open the door wider and stepped back, nonverbally telling him to come inside. Peter entered the apartment. Neal felt the emotions he buried this evening come simmering to the surface. All those sexual feeling coursed through him like fire. He wanted to taste him, suck him dry and hear him scream out his name in pleasure…

Peter walked inside and turned to his painting. Mild surprise crossed his face and then admiration, "Did you paint this?"

Neal moved to him, resisting the urge to reach out and clasp his hand over Peter's muscled arm. Instead he turned to look at the painting too, "I'm not finished yet. But I'm getting there…"

"It looks amazing, Neal," Peter said impressed. "I haven't seen his work so vividly done before. Incredible." He moved closer and examined the artwork. The paint was still fresh but Peter didn't seem to mind.

"I thought you didn't know Klimt," Neal commented.

Peter finally looked up from the painting and shot him a boyish smile. "I lied."

Neal reeled, "really?"

Peter laughed, "Don't look so shocked. You were ready to believe I didn't know anything about Klimt, so I let you."

Neal shook his head, surprised that he managed to lie to him and get away with it. When had Neal become too distracted to pick up on Peter's lies? Maybe because he became emotionally compromised when it came to his fed. Or maybe after they kissed last night…?

"What are you doing here, Peter? I'm sure it's not to talk about Klimt." Neal said smoothly, though his heart suddenly began to race again. Peter never came here unannounced unless it involved the case or an emergency. But he had a gut feeling it had nothing to do with either reason.

Peter poured the remaining wine from the bottle into Neal's empty glass. He picked it up and sipped from the spot Neal's lips had been from the rim. Neal felt his cock stiffen, watching Peter drink the whole glass down without stopping. He would usually chastise him for not savoring the wine, but at the moment, he was too focused on the movement of his throat and the way the shirt clung to his toned chest.

"I think we both know why I'm here, Neal." Peter breathed out in a husky voice, setting the empty glass on the table.

Neal felt his heart jolt and his breathing grow heavy with excitement.

Peter watched him, seeming almost defeated from the inner battle that had gone on inside him, ready to give in and willing to be taken. Neal reached out and placed his hand over the chest of his chest, stroking up and down the curves of his muscles. He felt and heard the quickening of his breath. Excitement fluttered in his belly as his cock pressed against the fly of his jeans.

"So you're staying…?" Neal whispered hopefully.

The look on Peter's face was one that Neal knew he would remember the rest of his life. Wariness. Hope and defeat. But more importantly, hunger. Yes, a hunger that seemed to burn right through his with just a look. Neal knew it was reflected on his own face, in the way he was standing and breathing. It was in his voice as he spoke, "yeah, Neal. The whole night."

Neal smiled in weak happiness, his hand clenching the fabric of Peter's shirt and pulling it forward. Peter met him more than halfway in a full body slam of a kiss that was ferocious and frantic. Neal's heart leapt into the kiss, devouring and taking. Peter groaned, slipping his tongue urgently into Neal's warm, wet mouth. They both clung to each other, pulling at their clothes and kissing through frantic breaths. Peter hurled him against the table, the back of his knees the edge, his back slamming against the table. Somewhere in the distance he heard the wine glass fall and shatter. Then he heard Peter's hard in-take of breath as he unclasped his jeans. Neal whimpered, loving the pressure of Peter's hard fingers working their magic over his towering erection which now throbbed to be touched.

Peter managed to tug off his jeans and toss them to the floor. He spread his legs and Peter maneuvered between them, making Neal's thighs brush against his waist. Peter grabbed his face and pulled him in for another kiss. It was more torrid and hurried then the last one, lips fighting for dominance and teeth scraping in rushed desire.

Neal arched his back off the table, needing to feel more of Peter. Peter grunted as if in pain and jerked his hips forward. Their cocks slammed into each other, making Neal grip the edge of the table and bite his lower lip from the sudden tension tingling up him. His tip felt sensitive to the friction that Peter now caused. He arched again, greeting each hard pound from Peter. But it still wasn't enough. Desperate, Neal sat up and ripped Peter's shirt over his head. Peter's breath came out hard as he let Neal throw it to the side. They locked eyes, both burning with unresolved need as they sought each other out for another soul wrenching kiss. It was hard, brutal and desperate. Neal tasted the fire Peter felt and let his control slip into the passion that engulfed them.

Legs still spread and opened on the table, Peter reached between them and began unbuttoning his jeans. The back of his knuckles grazed of Neal's throbbing cock and he whimpered, gripping the back of his neck, his body instinctively jerking upwards. A rough laugh escaped the back of Peter's throat as he did it again, making a bead of precum form on his throbbing head. Muscles taunt, stomach clenching, ass flexing, Neal clamped down on the explosion ready to rip through him.

"Peter…" he moaned heavily, caressing the softness of his hair. "Please…" he begged, desperate to give in to the orgasm.

Peter understood and stepped out of his jeans, "Bed…?" he asked gruffly.

Neal shook his head, "No… time…" he panted and grabbed the naked Peter pulling him in closer. Peter shook beneath him as he grunted and lifted him off the table, knelt and laid them down on the floor, his own erection straining against Neal.

Unable to control his body his jerked his hips forward, as Peter knelt over him, Neal's cock brushing up against his stomach. Peter held him down and kissed the side of his neck, his hands venturing over his muscles and down his side, touching everywhere. He flicked briefly over his nipples, until they were tight and taunt, before moving to clasp his firm ass cheeks. Neal writhed and moaned like a cat on the floor, erection tingling for release. He saw the control in Peter's face as he slid himself on top of him and lowered his own, beautiful manhood under him and.. .

Neal gasped and jerked upwards, standing on the brick of explosion even though Peter had yet to thrust into him. Peter too gasped, his hold body tense and his eyes hard.

"Peter…" Neal gasped, he begged out his name, needing him to finish him off. Peter did. He slammed into him, over and over. The both moaned together, Neal reached out and clung to him, his hands wrapping over his back and then his hard butt, urging him further inside, opening himself more to all of him. He quickened the pace, madly and fantastically. Both clinging to each other, sweat dripping from their lean bodies. Neal's heart expanded in his chest as he breathed in the scent of Peter, burying his face into his neck ready for the release that had been building.

Panting, sweating and fucking mindlessly on the floor. Neal couldn't have imagined it any hotter. He bit down hard on Peter's neck, his body suddenly tensed, his cock close. Suddenly he felt Peter's hand slip between their bodies and he grabbed his cock and pulled mightily, making Neal shatter. He cried out his name as Peter continued thrusting into him until he found his own release. The eruption was glorious. He savored every second of it.

With a huff, Peter pulled out then collapsed on top of him. Breathless and spent. Neal panted, kissing the side of his neck over the frantically beating pulse. He spread his legs and slid them over Peter's waist, holding him against him. Peter sighed, breathing heavily, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of their sex.

After a few moments, Neal trailed a gentle hand over the contours of his back. "Peter…"

He finally looked at him, his eyes still hungry for more as he looked down at him. Neal saw the muscle in his jaw flex and without saying anything, reached between them and grasped onto his cock. Their eyes locked, Peter watched him as he gripped firmly from the base and pulled all the way up. Neal cried out weakly, mouth agape, muscles tightening again. His legs limply fell away from Peter, who seemed to relish Neal's submission. He pulled upwards to the very tip of him and pressed down on the slit of his head, the pad of his thumb toying with him, until he writhed on the floor.

He leaned down and captured his earlobe with his mouth, sucking and biting it. Neal gasped, loving the feel of his mouth on him. Peter licked, then moved to his neck and sucked hard, so hard, Neal felt the sting of pain mixed with ecstasy. His hips arched upwards, greeting every movement of Peter's hand. His stroke became harder and faster. Neal dug his fingers into his back, letting his hips buck beneath him. Peter groaned, clearly liking Neal's response. "God… you're beautiful, Neal." He breathed into the shell of his ear, sending Neal right over the edge. The explosion of the orgasm nearly split him in half. His body relaxed and melted onto the floor.

Peter suddenly stood, bringing Neal with him. Neal wavered on his feet, his limps heavy and body wonderfully sedated. Peter laughed, smiling down on him, their bodies touching. He walked them to the bedroom but not before snagging a towel from the bathroom and wiping them down from their sweat and lovemaking. Neal felt a smile tug on his lips as he fell onto bed, limply.

Peter looked just as exhausted as he laid down besides him. Neal moved in and buried the side of his face into Peter's chest, breathing in his musky male scent. Peter exhaled and lazily ran his fingers through his hair, lulling him into sleep. But before he departed for dreamland, Neal asked, "Will you be here when I wake up?"

Peter's dark eyes were tender and smiling, "Yeah. I'll be here."

Neal heart swelled with love as he smiled up at his agent. He would never forget this night. Tomorrow was not important, only tonight- only this moment, wrapped in the arms of the man he had fallen in love with. Neal could only hope after tonight Peter would recognize what they have together as more than friendship. It was up to Peter now to make the choice. Neal couldn't do it for him.

Except Neal knew that Peter wouldn't be able to stand in the fire of what they had together for too long, without being consumed.

TBC