"Yes, Peter, I'll hijack your van and sell it to some foreign intelligence agency if left alone for a while," Neal says sarcastically into his cell phone. There's a silent pause and Neal sighs, annoyed. "Sarcasm, Peter! I promise your van will still be here when you arrive. How long until you get here, anyways?"

"In about 20 minutes. He's not supposed to show up for a few hours now, so we'll have some quality time to ourselves," Peter says, and Neal can hear the grin in his voice.

"I may have trouble controlling myself," Neal replies, smirking.

"Do your best," Peter jokes back.

"So, no one else's going to be in the van with us? The whole time?" Neal wonders. He's sure they'll be other agents in unmarked cars parked around the block, and he has to ask.

"Just us," Peter confirms, and he sounds a bit distracted. Probably trying to get the gun holster on and not drop the phone at the same time. Neal smiles.

"Good," Neal answers. "I'll see you when you get here, then. Bye."

"Bye," Peter says shortly, hanging up quickly. Neal flips his phone closed and leans back in his chair, his head hanging limply over the back. He's already horny, thinking about all the things he and Peter could do with a few spare hours. His cock is straining against his pants and he clutches his things to prevent himself from freeing it from its confines. He considers his situation. Neal knows he can't possibly wait 20 minutes for Peter to get to him, and he doesn't know if he can be done in the time he's got left.

The worst that could happen would be Peter walking in on him, he supposes. Peter would have a smug smirk on his face for a while, but Neal was sure he could fuck it out of his quickly enough. Having rationalized this enough, Neal works his belt and pants loose before pulling his cock out of his underwear. Neal groans in relief and starts pumping himself hard and fast, thoughts of Peter vivid in his mind's eye. This continues for about five minutes, Neal thrusting up out of the chair and into his hand, before Peter arrives and pauses just outside the van.

Peter hears light moaning coming from inside the van and smirks, knowing exactly what's happening before he even opens the door. Lucky for him, it's dark out and the temperature is about the same, inside and out of the van, so Neal doesn't notice as he slowly opens the door and slips inside. Neal's facing away from the door, but his head is hanging back, his eyes closed. Peter can see the chair shaking from Neal's vigorous movements. Peter silently walks around the chair, avoiding Neal's outstretched legs. He braces his hands on the desks on either side on the van and leans in. Finally sensing the presence, Neal's eyes shoot open, but he merely grins when he sees it's Peter.

"You're early," Neal announces, slowing but not stopping the movement of his hand.

"And aren't you glad I am?" Peter answers, and leans down to kiss Neal before the other man can answer. Neal smirks into the kiss and pushes himself up and out of the chair, forcing Peter back a step. Neal quickly takes control of the kiss and Peter lets him. He grab's Peter's shoulders and switches their positions before pushing Peter down onto the chair he just vacated.

Neal pushes Peter back, so that he's lying flat on the chair –sideways- and he's suddenly grateful that the chairs in these vans don't have arms. Neal leans over him, pressing their crotches together and kissing him forcefully. Neal skillfully removes Peter's tie without the other noticing. He slowly and gently gathers Peter's hands above his head, distracting the man with the kiss. Quickly, Neal wraps the man's wrists together in the tie, and then ties it around one of the table braces attached to the inside of the van.

"Neal-" Peter tries to protest, tugging at the bindings and pulling away from the kiss to look at them. Neal grinds their crotches together and smirks at the other man. Peter moans and bucks against him, and said man stands up and starts working Peter's pants off. He figures Peter's still loose from what they did in his office not an hour earlier. He knows he'll need minimal lube, and that's good, because he honestly doesn't have the patience for preparation right now.

Neal tugs Peter's pants off with his shoes and socks, but only pulls his own down to mid-thigh. This one's going to be a quickie, even if they go another few rounds later. He reaches for his inside-coat pocket and pulls out a small tube of lube. Neal flicks the bottle open and quickly applies it to himself. He glances down at Peter to find him flushed and panting. He's sweaty and his legs are spread for Neal. The conman grins down at his FBI-agent keeper before thrusting into the man.

Peter and Neal moan in unison, and Neal doesn't pause to give either of them time to adjust. Neal grabs the backs of Peter's thighs in a bruising grip and picks up his pace. Peter tugs at the bonds, trying to get a hand free. He's unsuccessful and groans in half-pleasure, half-frustration. Neal understands his need and moves on hand to Peter's cock to give him some much-needed friction.

They fuck for an unknowable amount of time, and Neal feels himself getting close. He adds a flick of the wrist to his movements on Peter's cock, and within ten seconds, the man's coming all over Neal's hand and his stomach. Neal continues thrusting as Peter clenches around him, hitting Peter's prostate and causing the man to give a hoarse shout. A few more thrusts and Neal gives in, moaning Peter's name and coming inside him. Neal sags against Peter and they lay there, panting, for a few minutes before Neal groans and leans forward, untying Peter's hands.

Peter rolls his shoulders before letting them rest on his stomach as Neal falls back into the other chair in the van. After a few more minutes of recuperating, Peter pushes himself out of the chair and onto his knees, in between Neal's legs. Neal feels his cock twitch in anticipation of going again and glances as the clock to make sure they have enough time. Neal glances back down at Peter and grins.

"We've got plenty of time to kill."