Fic: Man in the Mirror
Sep. 28th, 2014 05:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pooh_collectorTitle: Man in the Mirror
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pooh_collector
Characters and Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, P/E/N
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,200
Spoilers: None
Summary: Another timestamp in the Of Christmases verse. Neal hasn’t been home long from rehab and he’s learning to get used to the new Neal, with some help from Peter. This came about at meet up from the beautiful picture prompt bykanarek13 below.
Man in the Mirror
Peter completed his double Windsor and smoothed his green and white striped tie down against his shirt. Then he picked up his jacket from where it was draped on the back of the chair, swung it around his shoulders and slid it up his arms. He fastened the buttons, gave his silk tie one final adjustment and then turned to the mirror. Perfect. He grinned in satisfaction. Everything was going to be perfect on his first date with his partners since Neal returned home from rehab.
Peter turned when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. El appeared dressed in a fitted and shimmering red dress. It matched the stripes in his dress shirt and played beautifully off her ivory skin.
“Hey hon,” he greeted her with an appreciative grin.
She returned the look, her smile sparkling in her eyes. It made Peter ecstatic to see it. It had been a long time since she had smiled that way so freely and so often. “Hi hon.”
“Is Neal almost ready?”
El shook her head. “He’s having an inordinate amount of trouble picking out a suit. I think maybe he needs a little help.”
“From me?” Peter questioned. “Hon, I’m not the clothes guy in this family.”
El stepped into Peter’s space and wrapped her hands gently around the lapels of his jacket. “Sweetie, it’s not really about the suit,” she said bluntly.
“Oh,” he replied, and then when the light bulb really clicked on in his brain he reiterated, “Oh.”
El’s smile brightened and she kissed him on the cheek. “That’s my boy. I’m going to let Satchmo out one last time while you’re upstairs.” She turned away from him then and called for the dog who was watching the scene with his usual level of doggie disinterest from his bed in the corner.
Peter made his way up to the bedroom where he found his partner standing in the middle of the room with his pants hanging open and a dark blue shirt half buttoned. Much of Neal’s sizable wardrobe was strewn across the bed and over the Queen Anne chair in the corner.
“Hey buddy, you almost ready?” Peter asked as he entered the room.
Neal looked up from his task; the expression on his face a mix of frustration and dismay. “No.”
Peter walked over to his partner, feigning nonchalance. “Need some help?”
“No,” Neal repeated sharply, making Peter hesitate. This was all new ground. Neal had only been home from rehab for a couple of weeks and Peter was still learning when to step back and let Neal do things on his own and when to step in and help.
After a moment’s hesitation he decided on the middle ground, a wait and see approach. “Okay, I’m just going to change my cufflinks. I think my gold ones would be better, don’t you?” He asked as he made his way across the room to the dresser where he kept his minimal amount of jewelry.
Neal shrugged and returned to buttoning up his shirt. Peter lingered at the drawer, removing the cufflinks he was wearing and putting on the new ones.
He was just snapping the second one closed when he heard Neal groan. He turned to look just as the younger man grabbed the opposing seams of his shirt across his chest and started to tug, stressing the buttons nearly to the point of popping off.
“Neal, hey, don’t do that.” Peter said firmly, but gently, as he walked back over to his partner.
“I can’t…” Neal began, the sentence petering out before Peter could understand what was frustrating his partner to point where he would destroy a hundred dollar shirt.
Neal had stopped pulling, but his fists were still clenched in the material. Peter brought his own hands up and covered his partner’s. “What’s going on?”
Neal closed his eyes and Peter waited, uncertain of whether Neal was struggling to find the words to express himself or the desire.
Finally, Neal looked at him. “Nothing… fits.”
Peter wanted to smile at how very Neal-like his partner’s concern was and how wonderful it was to have Neal here, in their home, concerned with such Neal-like things. Gently, he pulled Neal’s hands free from his shirt and placed them down at Neal’s side. Then he picked up where Neal had left off, fastening the remaining two buttons of his shirt. “I love this shirt. You look gorgeous in dark colors. And, any shade of blue brings out the color of your eyes.”
Once he had the shirt done up, Peter reached down to the bed and grabbed the silver tie that had been tossed there. He draped it around Neal’s neck and began to knot it into a double Windsor to match his own.
Neal huffed at Peter’s comment but allowed Peter to continue to dress him.
When Peter was done with the tie, he carefully tucked the tails of Neal’s shirt into his slacks and did up the button. They were too loose, and Peter understood why Neal was distressed. He had lost muscle mass and weight while he had been comatose. And, while these things were temporary they were a very real physical reminder to Neal of what he had gone through and what he still needed to overcome.
Peter pulled Neal’s zipper up slowly, palming Neal’s crotch lightly, to remind Neal how much he still wanted and needed him. Neal shivered slightly at the touch and Peter couldn’t help but feel gratified that he could still elicit that kind of response from his younger partner.
With Neal’s slacks closed and his belt buckled, Peter rummaged through the clothing on the bed until he found the matching dark blue jacket and then he slipped it onto Neal’s arms and up over his shoulders, smoothing his hands down the front once it was set in place.
The fit of the jacket was also a little loose, but that didn’t matter at all to Peter. Neal looked like he always had to him, like a young god perfect in every way. “You’re beautiful.”
Neal huffed and looked down. “No.”
“Yes,” Peter countered. He put his hand under Neal’s chin and lifted it gently so that he could look his partner in the eyes. “Yes,” he repeated when he knew he had Neal’s attention.
Despite Peter’s best attempt at reassurance Neal still looked uncertain and strangely uncomfortable in his own skin. It was disconcerting to Peter. Neal had always bubbled with self-certainty.
He took Neal’s hand and led him over to El’s dressing table. He stood behind Neal as he positioned the younger man in front of the large mirror there.
Through the glass Neal was the best thing that Peter had ever seen, beautiful and whole and back in his arms where he belonged. Their suits clashed and Neal really did look awkward in the tailored lines that no longer hugged him and Peter realized belatedly that his tie was actually pretty awful with the shirt he was wearing, but the image in front of him was flawless nonetheless.
“You’re perfect.”
Author:
pooh_collectorCharacters and Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, P/E/N
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,200
Spoilers: None
Summary: Another timestamp in the Of Christmases verse. Neal hasn’t been home long from rehab and he’s learning to get used to the new Neal, with some help from Peter. This came about at meet up from the beautiful picture prompt by
kanarek13 below. Man in the Mirror
Peter completed his double Windsor and smoothed his green and white striped tie down against his shirt. Then he picked up his jacket from where it was draped on the back of the chair, swung it around his shoulders and slid it up his arms. He fastened the buttons, gave his silk tie one final adjustment and then turned to the mirror. Perfect. He grinned in satisfaction. Everything was going to be perfect on his first date with his partners since Neal returned home from rehab.
Peter turned when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. El appeared dressed in a fitted and shimmering red dress. It matched the stripes in his dress shirt and played beautifully off her ivory skin.
“Hey hon,” he greeted her with an appreciative grin.
She returned the look, her smile sparkling in her eyes. It made Peter ecstatic to see it. It had been a long time since she had smiled that way so freely and so often. “Hi hon.”
“Is Neal almost ready?”
El shook her head. “He’s having an inordinate amount of trouble picking out a suit. I think maybe he needs a little help.”
“From me?” Peter questioned. “Hon, I’m not the clothes guy in this family.”
El stepped into Peter’s space and wrapped her hands gently around the lapels of his jacket. “Sweetie, it’s not really about the suit,” she said bluntly.
“Oh,” he replied, and then when the light bulb really clicked on in his brain he reiterated, “Oh.”
El’s smile brightened and she kissed him on the cheek. “That’s my boy. I’m going to let Satchmo out one last time while you’re upstairs.” She turned away from him then and called for the dog who was watching the scene with his usual level of doggie disinterest from his bed in the corner.
Peter made his way up to the bedroom where he found his partner standing in the middle of the room with his pants hanging open and a dark blue shirt half buttoned. Much of Neal’s sizable wardrobe was strewn across the bed and over the Queen Anne chair in the corner.
“Hey buddy, you almost ready?” Peter asked as he entered the room.
Neal looked up from his task; the expression on his face a mix of frustration and dismay. “No.”
Peter walked over to his partner, feigning nonchalance. “Need some help?”
“No,” Neal repeated sharply, making Peter hesitate. This was all new ground. Neal had only been home from rehab for a couple of weeks and Peter was still learning when to step back and let Neal do things on his own and when to step in and help.
After a moment’s hesitation he decided on the middle ground, a wait and see approach. “Okay, I’m just going to change my cufflinks. I think my gold ones would be better, don’t you?” He asked as he made his way across the room to the dresser where he kept his minimal amount of jewelry.
Neal shrugged and returned to buttoning up his shirt. Peter lingered at the drawer, removing the cufflinks he was wearing and putting on the new ones.
He was just snapping the second one closed when he heard Neal groan. He turned to look just as the younger man grabbed the opposing seams of his shirt across his chest and started to tug, stressing the buttons nearly to the point of popping off.
“Neal, hey, don’t do that.” Peter said firmly, but gently, as he walked back over to his partner.
“I can’t…” Neal began, the sentence petering out before Peter could understand what was frustrating his partner to point where he would destroy a hundred dollar shirt.
Neal had stopped pulling, but his fists were still clenched in the material. Peter brought his own hands up and covered his partner’s. “What’s going on?”
Neal closed his eyes and Peter waited, uncertain of whether Neal was struggling to find the words to express himself or the desire.
Finally, Neal looked at him. “Nothing… fits.”
Peter wanted to smile at how very Neal-like his partner’s concern was and how wonderful it was to have Neal here, in their home, concerned with such Neal-like things. Gently, he pulled Neal’s hands free from his shirt and placed them down at Neal’s side. Then he picked up where Neal had left off, fastening the remaining two buttons of his shirt. “I love this shirt. You look gorgeous in dark colors. And, any shade of blue brings out the color of your eyes.”
Once he had the shirt done up, Peter reached down to the bed and grabbed the silver tie that had been tossed there. He draped it around Neal’s neck and began to knot it into a double Windsor to match his own.
Neal huffed at Peter’s comment but allowed Peter to continue to dress him.
When Peter was done with the tie, he carefully tucked the tails of Neal’s shirt into his slacks and did up the button. They were too loose, and Peter understood why Neal was distressed. He had lost muscle mass and weight while he had been comatose. And, while these things were temporary they were a very real physical reminder to Neal of what he had gone through and what he still needed to overcome.
Peter pulled Neal’s zipper up slowly, palming Neal’s crotch lightly, to remind Neal how much he still wanted and needed him. Neal shivered slightly at the touch and Peter couldn’t help but feel gratified that he could still elicit that kind of response from his younger partner.
With Neal’s slacks closed and his belt buckled, Peter rummaged through the clothing on the bed until he found the matching dark blue jacket and then he slipped it onto Neal’s arms and up over his shoulders, smoothing his hands down the front once it was set in place.
The fit of the jacket was also a little loose, but that didn’t matter at all to Peter. Neal looked like he always had to him, like a young god perfect in every way. “You’re beautiful.”
Neal huffed and looked down. “No.”
“Yes,” Peter countered. He put his hand under Neal’s chin and lifted it gently so that he could look his partner in the eyes. “Yes,” he repeated when he knew he had Neal’s attention.
Despite Peter’s best attempt at reassurance Neal still looked uncertain and strangely uncomfortable in his own skin. It was disconcerting to Peter. Neal had always bubbled with self-certainty.
He took Neal’s hand and led him over to El’s dressing table. He stood behind Neal as he positioned the younger man in front of the large mirror there.
Through the glass Neal was the best thing that Peter had ever seen, beautiful and whole and back in his arms where he belonged. Their suits clashed and Neal really did look awkward in the tailored lines that no longer hugged him and Peter realized belatedly that his tie was actually pretty awful with the shirt he was wearing, but the image in front of him was flawless nonetheless.
“You’re perfect.”
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