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Peter was never sure what date he and Neal should use for their anniversary. The day they met? The day Neal moved up to New Jersey, when they started dating for real? The day Neal officially moved in with Peter? They had a wedding anniversary, but historical import aside it meant a lot less to Peter than those other days, and by any definition he and Neal had been together a lot longer than the year and change since their date at City Hall. It had been ten years since Neal moved into Peter's old apartment, and Neal wanted to throw a party, which was why Peter found himself standing in the backyard talking to some guy named either Devon or Evan, the young boyfriend of one of Neal's friends from the men's chorus.
"So, did you two meet at work? At the FBI?"
"No, not quite." Neal laughed and leaned into Peter's side. "I was a police officer back then, actually. Peter's car was stolen, and I went to take his report."
"Seriously? That's crazy awesome."
Peter squeezed Neal's shoulder and pulled him closer. "It was the luckiest unlucky thing that ever happened to me."
Neal grinned and jostled Peter with his elbow. "Peter Burke, big softy."
Big softy, indeed. Peter turned and tugged Neal in close. Neal was laughing as their lips met, but he went quiet as Peter kissed the taste of wine from his mouth, their bodies leaning into each other the way they had for ten years, more than ten years. Somebody whistled in the background, and Peter thought he should be embarrassed but for once he really, truly didn't care.