Title: Streetlights, but no serenades
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: Neal Caffrey/Clinton Jones
Rating: G-rated
Length: 420 words
Notes: Many thanks to china_shop for beta.
Summary: Clinton's in trouble.

Streetlights, but no serenades

If Clinton had taken the time to think it through, he would've known that letting Neal Caffrey follow him home was a bad idea. Neal had never struck him as anything but straight, what with his and Kate Moreau's star-crossed romance, and the endless parade of beauties trying to ensnare him. And it wasn't as if Clinton never had clueless white boys bat their eyelashes at him before, but he'd managed each time to leave well enough alone--whether by good sense or good grace or good luck didn't matter--those boys were trouble.

And this here was trouble with a capital T, a convicted con artist smouldering at him outside his door for the third time this week, but the boy in question was all flirting and no follow through, which meant Clinton should keep his hands to himself. It was getting harder though. It turned out he was just as susceptible to the infamous Caffrey charm as the next person, and getting a genuine smile out of Neal was kind of addictive. Clinton slid his key in the lock and pushed the door open, losing the thread of Neal's basically one-sided conversation, losing the last thread of his willpower. He stepped up into Neal's space, rested a hand on Neal's shoulder and stopped the stream of words with his mouth, expecting Neal to freeze and back off, to blush and stammer, and to goddam stop messing with him. Instead, Neal's eyes closed and his mouth opened and a pair of warm hands settled on Clinton's hips and oh, they were lost. Clinton groaned, using his lips and tongue to show just what Neal did to him, and Neal clung harder and took whatever Clinton gave him, mouth and hands and body all saying, "Yes!"

Minutes or hours later, Clinton's instinct for self-preservation reasserted itself, pointing out that they were in public, and by the way, this was a really bad idea if he wanted to keep his job, not to mention stay sane, so he managed to break the kiss and took a step back.

"Okay," he said, trying to keep his breathing calm and even, trying not to let a hint of panic creep into his voice, staring at Neal's hitching breath and flushed cheeks. "Okay," he said again, clutching at that free-floating thread of willpower as Neal's hands tightened for a moment before releasing him. "I'm...uh...." He backed into his apartment and closed the door, resisting the desire to bang his head on it. He was in so much trouble.