Archive of Our Own ^beta

Peter gripped the book tightly and sucked in a sharp breath. “Neal…” 

“Read, Peter. Read or I stop.” 

Peter closed his eyes and cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind so he could focus on the words on the page and not Neal's fingers pulling down his zipper. 

“I sing the body electric,” he started, and Neal rewarded him by stroking him through the fabric of his boxers. Peter stuttered but kept going. “Th-the a-armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them.” Neal slowly and deliberately pulled Peter's boxers down, freeing him from the fabric. 

Peter swallowed but did his best to continue reading the poem Neal had selected for him. His breath hitched as Neal wrapped a hand around him and started stroking him gently. “A-and if the b-body d-does not do- ah, fuck, Neal!” 

Neal stilled his hand the moment Peter stopped reciting the poem. “Keep reading, Peter.” 

Peter took a deep breath and continued. “If the body does not do - ah! - f-fully as much as the soul?” 

Neal leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe up Peter's cock. He felt the older man shudder beneath him, heard him stutter again as he did his best to keep his composure as he read the poem. Neal flicked his tongue over the tip and when Peter only paused for a moment to suck in a breath, Neal rewarded him by taking him into his mouth. He moved slowly, taking him in centimeter by centimeter. Neal wanted to take his time, make Peter slowly come undone as he read. 

“... appears not only in his face, it is in - fuck, Neal!” Neal paused and stilled, not so much as breathing until Peter continued. “H-his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the- oh god,” Peter moaned as Neal's nose pressed against his skin. His cock twitched inside the wet heat of Neal's mouth. Neal tapped impatiently on his hip reminding him to read. “In the joints of his hips and wrists,” Peter continued. 

Neal hummed and started bobbing his head slowly, nearly pulling off fully before moving his head back down, working his tongue as he did so. 

Peter did his best to keep his voice even as he read, trying to focus on the words and not the feeling of Neal's lips wrapped around him. “The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the - oh god,” he moaned as Neal hollowed his cheeks and swallowed around him. Once again Neal stilled, even his tongue laying flat and motionless. Peter groaned in frustration and Neal gave him another sharp tap on his hip. “Through the cotton and broadcloth, to s-see him -” Peter paused again to let out a breathy moan. Neal stilled once more and Peter sighed. “Neal, please, I can't-” and with that Neal pulled off of him. “No, wait, I'll keep reading!” 

Neal looked up at him and swiped his thumb across the corner of his bottom lip. “I don't know, Peter. I don't think you can handle it. You keep stopping.” 

“I'm trying, but your mouth -” 

“No poetry, no blow job. That was the deal.” 

Peter huffed and clenched his jaw. He turned his attention back to the book. “To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more.” Neal obediently leaned forward and took him into his mouth again. He opened his throat and leaned in until his nose pressed against skin and to Peter's credit he only paused a moment to take a shaky breath before he kept reading. Neal hummed his approval and swallowed around him, earning him a stutter and another sharp intake of breath. “You linger to see his back, and - ah! - the b-back of his n-neck and sh-shoulder-side.” 

Neal rewarded his newfound focus by moving faster, his lips wrapped tightly around him. Peter struggled to keep reading, his breath hitching more and more. He took another pause to moan and felt Neal grow still once more. He took a shuddering breath and continued just as Neal was about to give him another warning tap. He could feel Neal’s smile and hum of approval. Peter choked down the moan, his resolve firm. “... the embrace of love and r-resistance, the upper-hold - mmm fuck - and under-hold, the hair r-rumpled over and b-blinding - ah, god, Neal! - b-blinding the ey - oh god - the eyes - oh, Neal please don't stop,” Peter begged as Neal had begun bobbing his head with speed, working him closer to orgasm. 

His plea went unheeded as Neal froze still, halfway up the length of his cock. Peter bucked his hips, chasing the younger man's mouth. Neal gripped his hips to keep him in place and pressed his thumb into the skin in warning. Peter swallowed thickly. “The m-march of firemen -” he let out another moan. He was getting close and his heart raced. What if he couldn't keep reading? Would Neal really deny him his orgasm if he couldn't recite through it? “- in their own c-costumes, the p-p-play of m-masculine - fuck, Neal, please - masculine muscle through c-clean - oh god! - c-clean setting t-trousers and w-wai-waist st-straps - fuck Neal, I'm gonna come!” 

Neal pulled off of him and Peter groaned loud in frustration. “Please, Neal, please I'm so close!” 

“Keep reading,” Neal reminded him. Peter sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. “You can do it, Peter. Focus.” 

“How am I supposed to focus when your mouth -” 

“Focus,” Neal said with gentle intensity. 

Peter nodded. He took a deep breath and continued. “The slow return from the fire,” Neal resumed with the same speed and intensity he had right before he stopped. Peter faltered for only a moment, his knuckles white where he gripped the book, desperate to just get enough words out to tip over the edge. “The n-natural - ahh! - p-p-perfect v-varied attit-tudes, the b-bent head - fuck! - the c-curved neck!” Peter's voice became louder, peppering the words with moans. But he didn't dare stop, so Neal supposed he could allow some pauses to moan. This time. He was right on the edge, Neal could tell, he just needed a little push… Neal relaxed his throat, taking him as deep as he could, and swallowed around him with a hum. “S-such-like I love - oh god Neal!” Peter came with a shout, shooting down Neal's throat, his hips rocking despite himself. He let go of the book with one hand, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Neal’s hair. 

Neal hummed softly, nursing him through it. Once he finished spasming Neal licked him clean, Peter's hand still resting gently on his head. He pulled off of him and gently took Peter's hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “See? That wasn't so hard was it?” 

Peter snorted, unable to muster more of a response. 

Neal grinned and tucked him back into his pants. He took the book from Peter's grip and closed it, setting it gently on the coffee table before he joined Peter on the couch. “Did you like it?” 

Peter finally opened his eyes to look at Neal. “Yes, Neal, I loved it.”

Neal beamed then leaned in and kissed him, deeply. Peter kissed him back and moaned when Neal parted his lips for him, his tongue slipping between them, his taste filling both their mouths. After a few moments Neal pulled away, his lips brushing against his ear. “Next time you're doing it from memory,” he whispered. 

Peter sputtered but Neal silenced him with another kiss. “From memory,” he said firmly before kissing him senseless.