Moments to Build On - Part 4
Title: Moments to Build On
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Elizbeth, Peter/Neal
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Off screen Non canon death of a canon charcter (brief non graphic description), mentions of miscarriage, alcohol usage, mentions of homophobic reactions
Word count: 14,000
Summary: Pete and Elizabeth meet Neal on their first date. AU in which Peter is an accountant, Elizabeth is a girl who likes him back, and Neal's the server turned friend. But when tragedy strikes, Peter realizes what their friendship really means to him.
Notes: This was written for the
whitecollar_bb. This should have been longer. It didn't get anywhere near the amounts of love it deserved. beta credit goes to genrectats and (it's been too long bud, since we've worked together) Sol - thanks to these two incredible girls that kept my head in the game even when I was sure there was no possible way this was getting done.
Thank you so so much to
kaylashay for this artwork, it's beautiful! Her art post is HERE - go check it out and leave love!
“Relax, Peter. You look great.” Neal and Satch were watching from the foot of his bed as he shrugged out of one shirt and swapped it for another.
“I don’t even know why I’m bothering.” He fiddled with the sleeves and finally held his wrist out toward Neal, who fished the button through the hole and affixed the silver cufflink.
“Because.” Neal dropped the first hand and reached for the other. “You’re young and healthy and deserve to be happy again.”
Peter reached for a tie and Neal cleared his throat. Peter glanced at him questioningly and Neal shook his head. “No?”
“No tie. This isn’t an interview.” He stood and fixed the collar of the shirt, his fingers tickling across the hair at the back of Peter’s neck. He traced a hand down and undid the top button. “And you look…” Delectable, came to mind.
Peter swallowed hard and Neal realized his hands were still resting at the base of his throat. He looked up and met Peter’s eyes. What he saw there shook him to his core and he had to look away; eyes dropping to the floor as he stepped back, appearing to survey his handiwork. “Good. You look good.”
“Gee.” Peter spoke and both men ignored the way his voice caught. “You sure know how to flatter a guy.”
Neal laughed and Peter smiled. Whatever had supercharged the previous moment had disappeared again; the big pink elephant hiding behind the couch.
--
It was after 1 when his phone rang. Neal snatched at it and rolled over in his bed. “What’s wrong with Katie?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to call and tell you there is absolutely nothing wrong with Katie. She’s wonderful.”
Neal’s silence spoke volumes, probably more than he intended it to say, and finally he let out an audible breath. “Good.”
“Neal?” Peter breathed his name.
“Yeah?”
“Breakfast?” It was an old invite, the diner smack between his house and Neal’s apartment, 9am.
“Yeah. G’night, Peter.” He hung up and dropped the phone to the mattress beside him and ignoring the pounding of his heart he buried his face into the pillow and let sleep call him back.
--
The waitress smiled as they walked in and had their drinks waiting at their table before they even got seated; black coffee for Peter and orange juice for Neal. “Usual?”
“Morning, Darla.” Peter greeted her. “The usual, yep.” Peter nodded, they made the most wonderful omelettes here.
“Yes, please.” Nea grinned at her and wagged three fingers. “But can I get three pancakes today?”
The woman smiled back and nodded happily. She was always trying to shovel more food down their throats. She was nearing 70 and had spent earlier years feeding children and soldiers. Now she was spending her retirement making sure, like the neighborhood grandmother, that New York’s most willing ate to bursting.
She walked away and Peter’s smiled dropped.
“What?” Neal’s followed close. “What’s wrong?”
“Katie.”
“I thought you said there wasn’t anything wrong with Katie?” But he got it, he did.
“She’s not Elizabeth.” He shut his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands to his lids.
“And nobody ever will be.” He leaned in and tugged Peter’s hand away from his face. “It’s ok to not be ready. It’s ok to still miss her.”
“But how is she supposed to understand that?” Peter huffed an angry laugh. “She’s not you, either.”
Neal cocked his head softly to one side and smiled. “I didn’t know we were dating.”
Peter jerked his hand back like he’d been burned, something akin to panic flashing across his face. “I didn’t, that’s not…” He sloshed his coffee cup as he slid from the booth. “I’m sorry.” He stood and barely managed past Darla, returning with their plates.
“Did he leave the stove on?” She raised an eyebrow at Neal.
“I’m not - I’m not sure, exactly.” He waved at the table. “Go ahead and leave those. But can I get the check right away? And a to-go container for that omlette?”
“Sure thing, hon.” She nodded after Peter. “Please tell me you’re going after him.”
Neal picked up his fork and poked at the breakfast before him. “Yeah, but he looks like a guy who needs some space.”
--
“Peter? This is the third voicemail that I’ve left. Would you just text me or something? So I know you’re ok?” He paused like he was expecting an answer. “I’m standing outside. I’ll be here for awhile.”
He went home after an hour when there wasn’t even a flicker of the curtain.
--
It took him a full day of overthinking before the epiphany hit him too, eating breakfast at his kitchen table. He stopped with a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth. He dropped his spoon and got to his feet, practically flying out the door. God, he was dense. How had he not seen this coming?
He knew the answer to that too - he had. He’d felt it bubbling up in himself from the moment Peter had said goodbye outside the restaurant when all that was left of Elizabeth was the crumpled envelope in his hand.
And he’d seen it echoed back in Peter’s eyes just a few nights before.
He dialed Peter again and again as he hailed a cab, rattling off the address while he pulled the door shut. When Peter still didn’t answer his next call was to work where, for the first time in over 5 years of employment, he called in sick.
--
He rang the bell and heard Satchmo’s excited yips from the other side of the door. Otherwise all was quiet. “Peter?” He called through the door. He pressed his forehead to the wood. “Please, Peter.” Still quiet and it felt like a hummingbird was trapped in his chest. “It’s ok, Peter. Please let me in? Don’t shut me out.”
He stood there, hands on the frame, the only sound the was his own ragged breathing. When the chain dragged across the metal bar he jumped like a gun had gone off, but didn’t move from his spot. The door pulled open mere inches and revealed Peter; looking more haggard than Neal felt. “Katie should be perfect, Neal. She’s not because I’m not ready.” He blinked down at his shoes and a tear slipped down his cheek. “What if I only feel what I - what if it’s because I associate you with Elizabeth?”
“But what if it’s not?” Neal swallowed hard. “Peter?”
“You even look like her. For fucks sake, how did I not see this coming?” Brown eyes shot up and the fear and doubt in them was easy to read.
“Peter, can I come in?” This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have on the front porch with the door already half closed on his face. “Please?”
Peter dropped his head and his arms, the door falling open. He nodded once and turned around, silently leading the way to the couch. He dropped to the cushion, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Neal took the seat right next to him, too close maybe. “Now talk to me.”
“Neal.” He scrubbed a hand across his face before looking up. “I don’t know what I feel.” He barked a laugh and it was as bitter as Neal had ever heard from him. “I had my one true love. I loved her. I married her. I lost her. And you, you were always there, on the sidelines. And now, now I’m afraid I’m trying to hold onto her by holding onto you.”
Neal nodded. “I can understand that. I belonged to the same part of your life that she did…”
“You brought us together.” Peter was blinking at him with owl eyes. “Did you know that? If anyone else had been our waiter that night she may have walked out and I could have missed the love of my life.”
“I know.”
“You were supposed to be there.” He paused and something unreadable rippled across his features. “What if you were supposed to be there because you’re supposed to be here?”
“Peter…” He had a desperate need to stop this line of reasoning.
The panic and confusion was easy to read when his face contorted with them. “What if my one was the guide? What if she -”
“I think you think too much. I think for a guy who makes his living off of numbers and concrete - that you base entirely too much of your heart on what you perceive as fate.” He grabbed at Peter’s arm in a plea to ground him.
“But - “
“Did you think about me?”
“What?”
“Before. When you had her. Did I ever cross your mind?”
A calm settled over Peter’s face. “No.”
“Did you miss me? Did you mention me or bring me up at all?”
“Neal…”
“No, Peter. You don’t get to associate what you feel for me with what you feel for her. I’m not a pawn or a gift she gave you.” He took a deep breath. “I’m just a man who watched you love her. I’m just a man who was lucky enough to know her. Peter, you didn’t - I didn’t… this happened because of her foundation but it was us that took those moments and built on them.”
Peter nodded and shifted just a little to face him. “I like you, Neal.”
Neal smiled. “Good. Because I like you too.”
“I didn’t mean to.” He raised a hand and ghosted it down Neal’s cheek. “But I do. A lot.”
“And it’s ok.” Neal brought his own hand up to capture Peter’s, he turned his face and pressed a kiss to the center of his palm. “If you’re ok, then it’s ok.”
“I’m ok.” He drew a long breath and pulled their hands back, keeping them together as they fell between them.”Now what?”
Neal raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
“I haven’t, I mean.” He laughed. “I haven’t dated, successfully, since Elizabeth. I haven’t dated a man since college. I’m a little out of my league here.”
“I think,” Neal tugged on his hand and pulled Peter a little closer. “I think we just keep doing what we’ve been doing. Except now I can do this, too.” He inched himself forward until he could feel the other man’s air on his lips, until the warmth of him was too close and his lips tingled with barely there friction. “Peter, this is your line to cross.” He dropped his eyes closed as Peter closed the rest of the distance and caught his sigh as he exhaled.
Warm and dry and comfortable, it still made Neal’s head spin. When he pulled back, Peter caught his lower lip and suddenly it was wet and hot and he groaned as Peter’s tongue swept in and across own. This thing, years in the making, finally bubbled over and consumed them.
He pulled away for real when his fingers found the wetness on Peter’s cheeks. “Hey. Hey,” He leaned in and kissed at the trail. “What’s wrong?”
Peter dropped his forehead to Neal’s. “The day she died, I couldn’t imagine feeling this with anyone else. And now…”
“What?” Neal pressed because he needed to hear the words as badly as Peter needed to say them.
Peter pulled away and framed Neal’s face with his hands. “I love you.”
“The day I met you, I couldn’t imagine feeling this with anyone, ever.” He didn’t know he was crying until Peter swept a thumb over his tear. “I’d given up. On love. On life.” He smiled then and it felt real. “But the two of you - strangers who fit and loved. I rooted for you, from that first day, because I was rooting for me, too.”
“Neal…” Peter’s eyes grew round as he unscrambled the hidden message.
“No.” Neal leaned in and kissed him again. “That’s another story for another time.”
Peter nodded. “But you’ll tell me, someday?”
“Someday I hope you’ll have all my stories.”
“And you, all of mine.” Peter fell against him and Neal caught him, wrapping tight arms around him.
“I’ve got you.” Neal murmured into his hair. “I love you and I’ve got you.”
--
FIN
Previous Part
Masterpost
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Elizbeth, Peter/Neal
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Off screen Non canon death of a canon charcter (brief non graphic description), mentions of miscarriage, alcohol usage, mentions of homophobic reactions
Word count: 14,000
Summary: Pete and Elizabeth meet Neal on their first date. AU in which Peter is an accountant, Elizabeth is a girl who likes him back, and Neal's the server turned friend. But when tragedy strikes, Peter realizes what their friendship really means to him.
Notes: This was written for the
whitecollar_bb. This should have been longer. It didn't get anywhere near the amounts of love it deserved. beta credit goes to genrectats and (it's been too long bud, since we've worked together) Sol - thanks to these two incredible girls that kept my head in the game even when I was sure there was no possible way this was getting done.
Thank you so so much to
kaylashay for this artwork, it's beautiful! Her art post is HERE - go check it out and leave love!
“Relax, Peter. You look great.” Neal and Satch were watching from the foot of his bed as he shrugged out of one shirt and swapped it for another.
“I don’t even know why I’m bothering.” He fiddled with the sleeves and finally held his wrist out toward Neal, who fished the button through the hole and affixed the silver cufflink.
“Because.” Neal dropped the first hand and reached for the other. “You’re young and healthy and deserve to be happy again.”
Peter reached for a tie and Neal cleared his throat. Peter glanced at him questioningly and Neal shook his head. “No?”
“No tie. This isn’t an interview.” He stood and fixed the collar of the shirt, his fingers tickling across the hair at the back of Peter’s neck. He traced a hand down and undid the top button. “And you look…” Delectable, came to mind.
Peter swallowed hard and Neal realized his hands were still resting at the base of his throat. He looked up and met Peter’s eyes. What he saw there shook him to his core and he had to look away; eyes dropping to the floor as he stepped back, appearing to survey his handiwork. “Good. You look good.”
“Gee.” Peter spoke and both men ignored the way his voice caught. “You sure know how to flatter a guy.”
Neal laughed and Peter smiled. Whatever had supercharged the previous moment had disappeared again; the big pink elephant hiding behind the couch.
--
It was after 1 when his phone rang. Neal snatched at it and rolled over in his bed. “What’s wrong with Katie?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to call and tell you there is absolutely nothing wrong with Katie. She’s wonderful.”
Neal’s silence spoke volumes, probably more than he intended it to say, and finally he let out an audible breath. “Good.”
“Neal?” Peter breathed his name.
“Yeah?”
“Breakfast?” It was an old invite, the diner smack between his house and Neal’s apartment, 9am.
“Yeah. G’night, Peter.” He hung up and dropped the phone to the mattress beside him and ignoring the pounding of his heart he buried his face into the pillow and let sleep call him back.
--
The waitress smiled as they walked in and had their drinks waiting at their table before they even got seated; black coffee for Peter and orange juice for Neal. “Usual?”
“Morning, Darla.” Peter greeted her. “The usual, yep.” Peter nodded, they made the most wonderful omelettes here.
“Yes, please.” Nea grinned at her and wagged three fingers. “But can I get three pancakes today?”
The woman smiled back and nodded happily. She was always trying to shovel more food down their throats. She was nearing 70 and had spent earlier years feeding children and soldiers. Now she was spending her retirement making sure, like the neighborhood grandmother, that New York’s most willing ate to bursting.
She walked away and Peter’s smiled dropped.
“What?” Neal’s followed close. “What’s wrong?”
“Katie.”
“I thought you said there wasn’t anything wrong with Katie?” But he got it, he did.
“She’s not Elizabeth.” He shut his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands to his lids.
“And nobody ever will be.” He leaned in and tugged Peter’s hand away from his face. “It’s ok to not be ready. It’s ok to still miss her.”
“But how is she supposed to understand that?” Peter huffed an angry laugh. “She’s not you, either.”
Neal cocked his head softly to one side and smiled. “I didn’t know we were dating.”
Peter jerked his hand back like he’d been burned, something akin to panic flashing across his face. “I didn’t, that’s not…” He sloshed his coffee cup as he slid from the booth. “I’m sorry.” He stood and barely managed past Darla, returning with their plates.
“Did he leave the stove on?” She raised an eyebrow at Neal.
“I’m not - I’m not sure, exactly.” He waved at the table. “Go ahead and leave those. But can I get the check right away? And a to-go container for that omlette?”
“Sure thing, hon.” She nodded after Peter. “Please tell me you’re going after him.”
Neal picked up his fork and poked at the breakfast before him. “Yeah, but he looks like a guy who needs some space.”
--
“Peter? This is the third voicemail that I’ve left. Would you just text me or something? So I know you’re ok?” He paused like he was expecting an answer. “I’m standing outside. I’ll be here for awhile.”
He went home after an hour when there wasn’t even a flicker of the curtain.
--
It took him a full day of overthinking before the epiphany hit him too, eating breakfast at his kitchen table. He stopped with a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth. He dropped his spoon and got to his feet, practically flying out the door. God, he was dense. How had he not seen this coming?
He knew the answer to that too - he had. He’d felt it bubbling up in himself from the moment Peter had said goodbye outside the restaurant when all that was left of Elizabeth was the crumpled envelope in his hand.
And he’d seen it echoed back in Peter’s eyes just a few nights before.
He dialed Peter again and again as he hailed a cab, rattling off the address while he pulled the door shut. When Peter still didn’t answer his next call was to work where, for the first time in over 5 years of employment, he called in sick.
--
He rang the bell and heard Satchmo’s excited yips from the other side of the door. Otherwise all was quiet. “Peter?” He called through the door. He pressed his forehead to the wood. “Please, Peter.” Still quiet and it felt like a hummingbird was trapped in his chest. “It’s ok, Peter. Please let me in? Don’t shut me out.”
He stood there, hands on the frame, the only sound the was his own ragged breathing. When the chain dragged across the metal bar he jumped like a gun had gone off, but didn’t move from his spot. The door pulled open mere inches and revealed Peter; looking more haggard than Neal felt. “Katie should be perfect, Neal. She’s not because I’m not ready.” He blinked down at his shoes and a tear slipped down his cheek. “What if I only feel what I - what if it’s because I associate you with Elizabeth?”
“But what if it’s not?” Neal swallowed hard. “Peter?”
“You even look like her. For fucks sake, how did I not see this coming?” Brown eyes shot up and the fear and doubt in them was easy to read.
“Peter, can I come in?” This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have on the front porch with the door already half closed on his face. “Please?”
Peter dropped his head and his arms, the door falling open. He nodded once and turned around, silently leading the way to the couch. He dropped to the cushion, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Neal took the seat right next to him, too close maybe. “Now talk to me.”
“Neal.” He scrubbed a hand across his face before looking up. “I don’t know what I feel.” He barked a laugh and it was as bitter as Neal had ever heard from him. “I had my one true love. I loved her. I married her. I lost her. And you, you were always there, on the sidelines. And now, now I’m afraid I’m trying to hold onto her by holding onto you.”
Neal nodded. “I can understand that. I belonged to the same part of your life that she did…”
“You brought us together.” Peter was blinking at him with owl eyes. “Did you know that? If anyone else had been our waiter that night she may have walked out and I could have missed the love of my life.”
“I know.”
“You were supposed to be there.” He paused and something unreadable rippled across his features. “What if you were supposed to be there because you’re supposed to be here?”
“Peter…” He had a desperate need to stop this line of reasoning.
The panic and confusion was easy to read when his face contorted with them. “What if my one was the guide? What if she -”
“I think you think too much. I think for a guy who makes his living off of numbers and concrete - that you base entirely too much of your heart on what you perceive as fate.” He grabbed at Peter’s arm in a plea to ground him.
“But - “
“Did you think about me?”
“What?”
“Before. When you had her. Did I ever cross your mind?”
A calm settled over Peter’s face. “No.”
“Did you miss me? Did you mention me or bring me up at all?”
“Neal…”
“No, Peter. You don’t get to associate what you feel for me with what you feel for her. I’m not a pawn or a gift she gave you.” He took a deep breath. “I’m just a man who watched you love her. I’m just a man who was lucky enough to know her. Peter, you didn’t - I didn’t… this happened because of her foundation but it was us that took those moments and built on them.”
Peter nodded and shifted just a little to face him. “I like you, Neal.”
Neal smiled. “Good. Because I like you too.”
“I didn’t mean to.” He raised a hand and ghosted it down Neal’s cheek. “But I do. A lot.”
“And it’s ok.” Neal brought his own hand up to capture Peter’s, he turned his face and pressed a kiss to the center of his palm. “If you’re ok, then it’s ok.”
“I’m ok.” He drew a long breath and pulled their hands back, keeping them together as they fell between them.”Now what?”
Neal raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
“I haven’t, I mean.” He laughed. “I haven’t dated, successfully, since Elizabeth. I haven’t dated a man since college. I’m a little out of my league here.”
“I think,” Neal tugged on his hand and pulled Peter a little closer. “I think we just keep doing what we’ve been doing. Except now I can do this, too.” He inched himself forward until he could feel the other man’s air on his lips, until the warmth of him was too close and his lips tingled with barely there friction. “Peter, this is your line to cross.” He dropped his eyes closed as Peter closed the rest of the distance and caught his sigh as he exhaled.
Warm and dry and comfortable, it still made Neal’s head spin. When he pulled back, Peter caught his lower lip and suddenly it was wet and hot and he groaned as Peter’s tongue swept in and across own. This thing, years in the making, finally bubbled over and consumed them.
He pulled away for real when his fingers found the wetness on Peter’s cheeks. “Hey. Hey,” He leaned in and kissed at the trail. “What’s wrong?”
Peter dropped his forehead to Neal’s. “The day she died, I couldn’t imagine feeling this with anyone else. And now…”
“What?” Neal pressed because he needed to hear the words as badly as Peter needed to say them.
Peter pulled away and framed Neal’s face with his hands. “I love you.”
“The day I met you, I couldn’t imagine feeling this with anyone, ever.” He didn’t know he was crying until Peter swept a thumb over his tear. “I’d given up. On love. On life.” He smiled then and it felt real. “But the two of you - strangers who fit and loved. I rooted for you, from that first day, because I was rooting for me, too.”
“Neal…” Peter’s eyes grew round as he unscrambled the hidden message.
“No.” Neal leaned in and kissed him again. “That’s another story for another time.”
Peter nodded. “But you’ll tell me, someday?”
“Someday I hope you’ll have all my stories.”
“And you, all of mine.” Peter fell against him and Neal caught him, wrapping tight arms around him.
“I’ve got you.” Neal murmured into his hair. “I love you and I’ve got you.”
--
FIN
Previous Part
Masterpost