Work Text:
1)
There were times—very, very few times—when Peter thought he should have just stayed single. It had certainly been simpler in ways, back when he was a young agent living in a sparsely-furnished bachelor apartment, working long hours and occasionally going home with a woman or a pair of women. He had mostly avoided letting himself get attached to any of them because he wasn’t looking for a relationship, and he wanted to avoid leading anybody on.
Then he met Elizabeth Mitchell, and there was no choice, not really. He needed to be with her, and she needed to be with him, and life became so much more complicated but Peter never regretted it for a moment, even when they weren’t perfect together. Then he met Neal, and once again a piece he hadn’t known he was missing appeared and slid right into his life with a click that told him he would never want to let go. Together, the three of them had more love than Peter had ever thought he deserved.
There were days, though, when he thought that maybe he earned that love, because while Neal and El brought joy and warmth and satisfaction into his life they also had a talent for bringing drama. Only Neal could think that a grumpy argument over house-hunting meant that the relationship was over. Only El could assume that Neal talking to her assistant meant that Neal was leaving them. Only the two of them could think that Peter being temporarily detained by a murderous criminal meant that his life was actually in danger. Well, Peter had to allow that other people might make that assumption as well, even if he had in fact been fine.
Peter knew he was unbelievably lucky that two beautiful, bright, and talented people had chosen to love him and be in his life, but he thought sometimes that they were lucky, too. There had to be a voice of reason in every relationship, after all. It was a good thing, he thought, that he wasn’t an insecure person because otherwise he might have thought that being the voice of reason was the only reason they kept him around.
Yep, not insecure at all, and that was a good, good thing.
2)
Neal had never been as nervous about giving a gift as he was when the first anniversary of his marriage to Peter and Elizabeth grew closer. Don't worry about it, El said. We usually just went out to dinner or bought something for the house, Peter said, but this was their first anniversary together and Neal couldn't help thinking about the years Peter and El had spent as a duo, the deep history and connection they had. He respected that connection, but at the same time sometimes it felt like a gap he could never cross.
Working on a reproduction at work one day, Neal found an idea for a gift he thought would be perfect, and in the weeks leading up to their anniversary he worked on it in his studio at home. He poured his love for his partners and his love of their beauty into the painting, and he built the frame himself. He carved it with a braided pattern similar to their wedding rings and gilded it with metal paints. When it was finished and dry, he wrapped the whole thing up in brown paper.
The anniversary fell on a Saturday, and they started the day with slow, sweet sex before moving on to brunch and mimosas on the deck behind the house. When everyone was full and awake with just the soft edge of a mild buzz from the champagne Neal brought up the subject of gifts. El's gift to the three of them was reservations at a popular new restaurant that miraculously appealed to all of them. Peter's gift was a weekend trip to the country--a bed & breakfast with a view, a winery tour, a welcome, relaxed change of scenery.
Neal went inside and brought out his gift, so bulky compared to the folded up print-outs El and Peter had produced. He hoped that it wasn't a terrible idea, and he held his breath as Peter and El peeled the tape off and unfolded the heavy brown paper from around the painting. El gasped and Peter blinked in surprise, but as they continued to study the painting Neal saw an edge of anger appear in Peter's face. Peter and El looked at each other, and when El looked back at Neal there were tears in her eyes.
"Oh, Neal," she said.
"I'm sorry. I thought--I didn't know what to get but I thought you might like this."
"It's beautiful," Peter said, sounding unhappy. "It's amazing work, but where are you?"
"What do you mean? I'm here. Of course I'm here."
"Sweetheart," El said, her voice unsteady, "you should be here." She reached out and tentatively touched her fingertips to the surface of the painting. "You painted me and Peter but you left yourself out."
Neal opened his mouth, but for once he didn't know what to say. "You two are--" He shook his head.
Peter pursed his lips and looked down for a moment before looking back up at Neal. "There is nothing we are that you aren't as well. We are three. We are together. We are married--all of us."
"I thought you knew that." El put a hand over her mouth then reached out to take Neal's hand.
Neal intertwined his fingers with hers and then Peter reached out to both of them and they made a circuit, hand to hand to hand. "I do know, but it's not the same."
"Our history may not be the same but our love is equal. You are equal." Peter squeezed Neal's hand.
"And we need you--not just in the frame, but in the picture." El nodded toward the painting. "Always."
"Always," Peter echoed.
Neal was quiet for a long moment. He looked at each of them and then closed his eyes, feeling the connection between the three of them. It was hard to let go of the idea of being separate and secondary but Neal opened his eyes and nodded. “Always."