White Collar: Misunderstood Intentions
Title: Misunderstood Intentions
Prompt Code: F-5 (at wcpairings )
Gift for: photoash
Author: Serena-chan (hourglass244 )
Rating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Peter/Neal
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Nothing specific. Takes place toward the end of season two.
Summary/Prompt: "Is it really too much to ask that we share a glass of wine and get frisky on at least a biweekly basis?!"
Neal paced in his room at June's. Ordinarily, he wouldn't be so wound up, but Peter was late - again. Peter was always late these days and that was if he showed up at all. Neal swore that if the man called and canceled on him just one more time, he'd... Well, he wasn't exactly sure what he'd do, but it certainly wouldn't be pleasant.
Truthfully, he should have known better. Peter was a married man and absolutely devoted to his wonderful wife. The guilt was bound to get to him eventually. Neal had hoped that since they had Elizabeth's permission, perhaps that wouldn't be an issue. After all, if Peter's own wife didn't care that he was sleeping with another man then why should he?
Again, Neal probably should have known better.
His phone rang, and he picked it up without bothering to check the caller ID. "Peter, you had better be calling to tell me that you're on your way."
A long silence followed by a deep sigh told Neal that this was not the case.
"Neal, listen, I - "
"No, Peter. You've already blown me off three times this week. If you don't want to see me, then just say so."
"Of course I want to see you," the older man rushed to reassure him. "But you know how busy things at work have been, and Elizabeth's still getting over her cold."
An icy knot of fear clutched in Neal's stomach. His lover had just lied to him.
"Peter, perhaps Elizabeth didn't tell you, but I bumped into her yesterday when I went to get lunch. She was fine." Neal took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. "Just get over here. We really need to talk."
There was more silence, but eventually Peter said, "All right. Just give me an hour, okay?"
Neal disconnected the call without saying goodbye.
Sinking down on his sofa, he put his head in his hands. He felt sick. Peter was going to break up with him, he just knew it. Six months ago when they'd started their relationship, he'd been on top of the world, but now he didn't know what to do.
Peter had been behaving strangely for about a month now. At first it was just small things, like being distracted at work, but then it had begun to spill over into their personal lives. The agent had become distant, and started canceling their dates. He always had some excuse - work, Elizabeth, taking Satchmo to the vet - but now Neal was wondering how many of those were lies.
By the time Peter showed up at Neal's door, the younger man had worked himself up into a worried, angry frenzy.
"Don't say anything," Neal said before Peter could even open his mouth. "I don't want to hear any excuses from you until I can be sure that they're the truth."
"Neal..." Peter began in a placating tone.
"I said be quiet!" Neal scrubbed a hand across his brow and tried to gather his thoughts. "I knew when we began this that I wouldn't have you to myself as often as I liked. You're married to an incredible woman who you need to spend time with, and I'm damn lucky to get you two nights out the week. I also knew when this arrangement was made that you might occasionally have to cancel our nights together - our job has unpredictable hours sometimes. So I'm grateful for any time I get to spend alone with you, and I thought you felt that way, too."
"I do feel that way, Neal," the older man jumped in, apparently unable to stay silent any longer. "I just - "
"You've just been busy," Neal finished for him. "But I have to wonder, Peter, just what have you been busy with? I know you lied to me about Elizabeth still being sick, so I have to wonder what other lies you've been telling me. I have never lied to you, Peter, at least not directly. If you didn't want to see me then you should have just been honest about it."
"I did want to see you!" Peter insisted.
Neal let out a bitter laugh. "You've got a funny way of showing it!" He swallowed hard and steeled himself to ask the question that had been burning a hole through his heart all week. "Are you trying to break up with me?"
Peter looked genuinely shocked. "What?! No! Of course not."
"Then what's going on, Peter? Why have you been avoiding me? I mean, you say you love me, so is it really too much to ask that we share a glass of wine and get frisky on at least a biweekly basis?!"
"Of course not," the older man said with a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Neal. I guess I should have known better than to try to pull one over on you."
The con felt his heart sink as Peter moved back toward the door. Was he leaving?
"Peter, wait! I - "
But Peter wasn't leaving. He reached outside the door for a large box that he had apparently placed there earlier and slowly carried it over to where his lover was sitting.
"Here," he said, carefully placing the box on the dining room table. "It's a little early, but... Well, happy anniversary."
Neal stared at first the box and then at Peter, utterly dumbstruck. "I - What? Peter, our anniversary isn't for another six months."
"Not that anniversary. The anniversary of when we first started working together. It'll be two years this Tuesday." Peter shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Neal would have found it adorable if he wasn't so damn confused. "Elizabeth reminded me of it. She says that's when our relationship really began so I ought to do something special."
The younger man knew his mouth was hanging open in a probably comical manner, but he didn't care. "But - but you've been ignoring me!"
"I was trying to surprise you!" Peter said defensively. "God, Neal, do you know how hard that is to do? I know you found where I hid your Christmas present this year, and you knew what I was going to get you for your birthday before I'd even bought it! I just thought that since you wouldn't be expecting it then I might actually have a shot at it this time."
"Oh." Neal felt his anger abruptly drain away...almost. "What does any of that have to do with you canceling on me all week?"
"I've had to rush home to take care of it," his lover told him gently. "Elizabeth's been helping, but it's not fair to ask her to do it too much. She's allergic, you know."
"Allergic? What is it, some sort of plant?"
Peter smiled, that wide, little boy grin that Neal fell in love with in the first place. "Open it."
Hesitantly, Neal reached out and lifted the lid off the box. "Oh!" he breathed when he saw what was inside.
A tiny calico kitten was curled up asleep nestled on a soft yellow blanket. The younger man watched, transfixed, as the kitten blinked sleepily up at him and let out a soft mew of protest at being woken up from its nap.
Tears filled his eyes, and Neal thought back to one of his first few dates with Peter. The older man had been asking about Neal's childhood again, although this time it had been because of a personal interest rather than a professional one. The con had eventually relented and told his lover about the cat he'd had as a little boy. It had been a beautiful calico named Jack, after the famous pirate, Calico Jack. He was his best friend until his mother had taken it to the pound when he was at school one day. (She was evidently tired of it clawing her curtains.) Neal had cried for hours when he found out and swore he'd never forgive her for it.
"Is this okay?"
Peter's tentative question snapped Neal back to the present. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up at his lover who was watching him nervously.
"It's perfect," he whispered. He reached down into the box and reverently scooped up the small bundle of fluff, cradling it to his chest.
"One of El's friends found a litter of five newborn kittens abandoned in a cardboard box in the alley beside her building," Peter told him. "That was three weeks ago. I'd been wracking my brain for about a week trying to figure out what to get you, and when El told me about the kittens, I asked her to find out what their coloring was. It's a girl, by the way. She was the only one in the litter that was calico. The rest were white with black patches and I think one of them was orange striped."
"What happened to the others?"
"El's friend is looking after them until she can find them all good homes. Apparently she's too much of an animal lover to risk taking any of them to the pound."
"Good," Neal said with conviction, fingers gently stroking the kitten's soft ears.
"She's still too young to eat solid food," Peter cautioned. "I've been feeding her kitten formula from a bottle every morning and every night. El's been covering the afternoon feedings. She loves kittens, even if they do make her sneeze."
"Maybe I can get Mozzie to help out while we're at work," Neal thought aloud.
"If not, then maybe we can come here on our lunch breaks until she's old enough for solid foods." Peter looked up to find Neal grinning widely at him. "What?"
"Oh, nothing. Just trying to picture you feeding her with a bottle in the first place," the younger man beamed.
Peter rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, El took pictures. She thought it was cute."
As he looked down at his kitten who had fallen asleep cradled in his hands, Neal suddenly had a horrible thought. "What about June? I've never asked her if I could have a pet. What if she won't let me keep her?"
"Already taken care of," Peter assured him. "I asked June first thing, and she said that of course it was all right. She also said to tell you that Bugsy is quite fond of cats, so not to worry if she ever gets out of your rooms."
Neal moved into his lover's arms after carefully setting the sleeping kitten back down on her blanket. "Thank you, Peter," he whispered. "I know it sounds cliche, but I think this is the nicest thing that anyone's ever given me."
"I'm glad," the older man murmured, leaning down to kiss him.
As their kiss began to deepen, Neal pulled back abruptly. "Peter, don't take this the wrong way, but... Please don't try to surprise me anymore."
"I won't," Peter said with a laugh. "Believe me, once was enough."
Prompt Code: F-5 (at wcpairings )
Gift for: photoash
Author: Serena-chan (hourglass244 )
Rating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Peter/Neal
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Nothing specific. Takes place toward the end of season two.
Summary/Prompt: "Is it really too much to ask that we share a glass of wine and get frisky on at least a biweekly basis?!"
Neal paced in his room at June's. Ordinarily, he wouldn't be so wound up, but Peter was late - again. Peter was always late these days and that was if he showed up at all. Neal swore that if the man called and canceled on him just one more time, he'd... Well, he wasn't exactly sure what he'd do, but it certainly wouldn't be pleasant.
Truthfully, he should have known better. Peter was a married man and absolutely devoted to his wonderful wife. The guilt was bound to get to him eventually. Neal had hoped that since they had Elizabeth's permission, perhaps that wouldn't be an issue. After all, if Peter's own wife didn't care that he was sleeping with another man then why should he?
Again, Neal probably should have known better.
His phone rang, and he picked it up without bothering to check the caller ID. "Peter, you had better be calling to tell me that you're on your way."
A long silence followed by a deep sigh told Neal that this was not the case.
"Neal, listen, I - "
"No, Peter. You've already blown me off three times this week. If you don't want to see me, then just say so."
"Of course I want to see you," the older man rushed to reassure him. "But you know how busy things at work have been, and Elizabeth's still getting over her cold."
An icy knot of fear clutched in Neal's stomach. His lover had just lied to him.
"Peter, perhaps Elizabeth didn't tell you, but I bumped into her yesterday when I went to get lunch. She was fine." Neal took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. "Just get over here. We really need to talk."
There was more silence, but eventually Peter said, "All right. Just give me an hour, okay?"
Neal disconnected the call without saying goodbye.
Sinking down on his sofa, he put his head in his hands. He felt sick. Peter was going to break up with him, he just knew it. Six months ago when they'd started their relationship, he'd been on top of the world, but now he didn't know what to do.
Peter had been behaving strangely for about a month now. At first it was just small things, like being distracted at work, but then it had begun to spill over into their personal lives. The agent had become distant, and started canceling their dates. He always had some excuse - work, Elizabeth, taking Satchmo to the vet - but now Neal was wondering how many of those were lies.
By the time Peter showed up at Neal's door, the younger man had worked himself up into a worried, angry frenzy.
"Don't say anything," Neal said before Peter could even open his mouth. "I don't want to hear any excuses from you until I can be sure that they're the truth."
"Neal..." Peter began in a placating tone.
"I said be quiet!" Neal scrubbed a hand across his brow and tried to gather his thoughts. "I knew when we began this that I wouldn't have you to myself as often as I liked. You're married to an incredible woman who you need to spend time with, and I'm damn lucky to get you two nights out the week. I also knew when this arrangement was made that you might occasionally have to cancel our nights together - our job has unpredictable hours sometimes. So I'm grateful for any time I get to spend alone with you, and I thought you felt that way, too."
"I do feel that way, Neal," the older man jumped in, apparently unable to stay silent any longer. "I just - "
"You've just been busy," Neal finished for him. "But I have to wonder, Peter, just what have you been busy with? I know you lied to me about Elizabeth still being sick, so I have to wonder what other lies you've been telling me. I have never lied to you, Peter, at least not directly. If you didn't want to see me then you should have just been honest about it."
"I did want to see you!" Peter insisted.
Neal let out a bitter laugh. "You've got a funny way of showing it!" He swallowed hard and steeled himself to ask the question that had been burning a hole through his heart all week. "Are you trying to break up with me?"
Peter looked genuinely shocked. "What?! No! Of course not."
"Then what's going on, Peter? Why have you been avoiding me? I mean, you say you love me, so is it really too much to ask that we share a glass of wine and get frisky on at least a biweekly basis?!"
"Of course not," the older man said with a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Neal. I guess I should have known better than to try to pull one over on you."
The con felt his heart sink as Peter moved back toward the door. Was he leaving?
"Peter, wait! I - "
But Peter wasn't leaving. He reached outside the door for a large box that he had apparently placed there earlier and slowly carried it over to where his lover was sitting.
"Here," he said, carefully placing the box on the dining room table. "It's a little early, but... Well, happy anniversary."
Neal stared at first the box and then at Peter, utterly dumbstruck. "I - What? Peter, our anniversary isn't for another six months."
"Not that anniversary. The anniversary of when we first started working together. It'll be two years this Tuesday." Peter shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Neal would have found it adorable if he wasn't so damn confused. "Elizabeth reminded me of it. She says that's when our relationship really began so I ought to do something special."
The younger man knew his mouth was hanging open in a probably comical manner, but he didn't care. "But - but you've been ignoring me!"
"I was trying to surprise you!" Peter said defensively. "God, Neal, do you know how hard that is to do? I know you found where I hid your Christmas present this year, and you knew what I was going to get you for your birthday before I'd even bought it! I just thought that since you wouldn't be expecting it then I might actually have a shot at it this time."
"Oh." Neal felt his anger abruptly drain away...almost. "What does any of that have to do with you canceling on me all week?"
"I've had to rush home to take care of it," his lover told him gently. "Elizabeth's been helping, but it's not fair to ask her to do it too much. She's allergic, you know."
"Allergic? What is it, some sort of plant?"
Peter smiled, that wide, little boy grin that Neal fell in love with in the first place. "Open it."
Hesitantly, Neal reached out and lifted the lid off the box. "Oh!" he breathed when he saw what was inside.
A tiny calico kitten was curled up asleep nestled on a soft yellow blanket. The younger man watched, transfixed, as the kitten blinked sleepily up at him and let out a soft mew of protest at being woken up from its nap.
Tears filled his eyes, and Neal thought back to one of his first few dates with Peter. The older man had been asking about Neal's childhood again, although this time it had been because of a personal interest rather than a professional one. The con had eventually relented and told his lover about the cat he'd had as a little boy. It had been a beautiful calico named Jack, after the famous pirate, Calico Jack. He was his best friend until his mother had taken it to the pound when he was at school one day. (She was evidently tired of it clawing her curtains.) Neal had cried for hours when he found out and swore he'd never forgive her for it.
"Is this okay?"
Peter's tentative question snapped Neal back to the present. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up at his lover who was watching him nervously.
"It's perfect," he whispered. He reached down into the box and reverently scooped up the small bundle of fluff, cradling it to his chest.
"One of El's friends found a litter of five newborn kittens abandoned in a cardboard box in the alley beside her building," Peter told him. "That was three weeks ago. I'd been wracking my brain for about a week trying to figure out what to get you, and when El told me about the kittens, I asked her to find out what their coloring was. It's a girl, by the way. She was the only one in the litter that was calico. The rest were white with black patches and I think one of them was orange striped."
"What happened to the others?"
"El's friend is looking after them until she can find them all good homes. Apparently she's too much of an animal lover to risk taking any of them to the pound."
"Good," Neal said with conviction, fingers gently stroking the kitten's soft ears.
"She's still too young to eat solid food," Peter cautioned. "I've been feeding her kitten formula from a bottle every morning and every night. El's been covering the afternoon feedings. She loves kittens, even if they do make her sneeze."
"Maybe I can get Mozzie to help out while we're at work," Neal thought aloud.
"If not, then maybe we can come here on our lunch breaks until she's old enough for solid foods." Peter looked up to find Neal grinning widely at him. "What?"
"Oh, nothing. Just trying to picture you feeding her with a bottle in the first place," the younger man beamed.
Peter rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, El took pictures. She thought it was cute."
As he looked down at his kitten who had fallen asleep cradled in his hands, Neal suddenly had a horrible thought. "What about June? I've never asked her if I could have a pet. What if she won't let me keep her?"
"Already taken care of," Peter assured him. "I asked June first thing, and she said that of course it was all right. She also said to tell you that Bugsy is quite fond of cats, so not to worry if she ever gets out of your rooms."
Neal moved into his lover's arms after carefully setting the sleeping kitten back down on her blanket. "Thank you, Peter," he whispered. "I know it sounds cliche, but I think this is the nicest thing that anyone's ever given me."
"I'm glad," the older man murmured, leaning down to kiss him.
As their kiss began to deepen, Neal pulled back abruptly. "Peter, don't take this the wrong way, but... Please don't try to surprise me anymore."
"I won't," Peter said with a laugh. "Believe me, once was enough."