Title: New Rules in the Game of Love
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~1200 words
Notes: Peter/Elizabeth/Neal. No warnings or spoilers. Thanks to mergatrude for beta.
Summary: Neal was supposed to be the unconventional one.

New Rules in the Game of Love

Neal was sitting on the Burkes' couch with Peter, trying to wrest the TV remote off him, nominally to turn off the game but really as an excuse to get physical. Not that he technically needed an excuse anymore. It was Thursday evening, only three nights since events had transpired and escalated, culminating in Neal finally being invited into Peter and Elizabeth's bed.

He'd accepted the invitation, of course. Boy, had he.

But since then, they'd been flat out at work, a case that they finally cracked at lunchtime, so when Peter tiredly packed up at the end of the day, Neal had pretty much followed him home. They needed to talk. Probably. Or maybe just have more delicious, luxurious, multi-limbed sex.

Neal was pretty sure Peter was teasing him, holding the remote out of reach while he pretended to want to check the score on the TV, and Neal was this close to jumping him when Elizabeth came downstairs, dressed to the nines. She wore a tight, shimmery sheath of a dress that drew attention to her curves, with matching earrings and impressively high heels. Heat kindled low in Neal's belly.

"Okay, boys," she said. "I'm going out."

Peter looked at her and warm appreciation lit his face. "Have fun. Play safe. Try not to break any hearts."

Elizabeth grinned, and Neal looked between them, trying to figure out what was going on. Elizabeth was radiating anticipation, but for what? "Do you have a work thing?" he asked. "You look incredible."

Elizabeth stopped digging in her handbag and looked at him. "Thanks, sweetie. And no, not a work thing." She raised an eyebrow at Peter. "You didn't tell him?"

"It didn't come up," said Peter. "El likes to have sex with strangers," he told Neal, as if he were saying she liked ballroom dancing or pétanque. "Every so often she goes out and—" He shrugged.

Neal stared.

"If I'd known you were coming over, I would've cancelled," said Elizabeth apologetically. "But I've arranged to meet up with a friend, Sheri. We're trying out a new bar in the Village."

"Seriously." Neal wondered if they were playing a prank on him.

But Elizabeth said, "Seriously," and Peter's amusement wasn't mischievous so much as wry.

He gave Neal a knowing look and said, "I don't know what we did to make you think we're monogamous."

Neal glanced away from both of them, down to his hands, to Satchmo asleep on the rug. His confusion was rapidly succeeded by a cold stab of disappointment. He straightened his shoulders and raised his chin a fraction, but he couldn't help the thread of bitterness in his voice. "So, the other night—is that what it was? Just another thrill. Sex with a stranger."

"Oh, honey, no," said Elizabeth, squeezing onto the small triangle of couch next to him. She put her hand on his arm. "You're no stranger. Don't ever doubt that you're special. And for Peter to—Honestly, you have no idea what it took to get us to this point."

Peter took Neal's hand and held it tightly. "We've never done this before. I've never."

"If you want me to stay in tonight—" said Elizabeth. "If we need to talk about this—" Neal wasn't sure if she was talking to him, to Peter or to them both, but Peter was okay with Elizabeth's plans, and Neal—who prided himself on being sophisticated and worldly, who'd thought he was bringing adventure into the Burkes' ordinary suburban lives—Neal wouldn't be the one to stop her.

He thought of her with another man, a faceless stranger, and felt a small, tight twist of jealousy. But he didn't have any right to be jealous. Elizabeth didn't owe him anything. "No, you go. Have fun."

"If it's any consolation," said Peter, "it means you'll have me to yourself." He said it with what under different circumstances would have been a hilarious mix of innuendo and diffidence, and Neal swallowed, suddenly consoled, his jealousy eclipsed.

Elizabeth snickered at his expression. "I think he likes that idea, hon."

Neal summoned a grin and looked at Peter, whose gaze darkened in response. He twisted their fingers together.

"I'm sure we can find a way to pass the time," murmured Neal.

Peter smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Count on it."

"Okay, well, then you guys have fun too." Elizabeth pressed a perfumed kiss to Neal's cheek and stood up to fish her car keys out of her purse. Neal was distracted by Peter's mouth and the things he wanted to do to it. He had to force himself to look away, to say goodbye.

The sound of the door closing behind Elizabeth threw him out of his reverie a little. He blinked and sent Peter a semi-skeptical look. "Seriously, you're okay with that?"

"Of course I am," said Peter, unperturbed. "She goes out and has fun, and then she comes home to me." He cleared his throat. "To us. It's the coming home that matters." He cupped the back of Neal's neck and drew him forward till they were lying together on the couch, Neal sprawled on Peter's broad chest. "When did you get so conventional, anyway?"

Neal huffed indignantly and kissed him to shut him up, which wasn't a particularly effective punishment but was well worth it anyway. So worth it that within minutes they were stumbling up the stairs, pausing to grope on the landing and then falling onto the bed together. Neal tugged Peter's clothes out of the way, greedy for the feel and scent and weight of his body, for the clutch of Peter's hands on him and the searing heat of his mouth. If Elizabeth could be broad-minded enough to let Neal have this, then who was Neal to want to constrain her, pin her down. The Burkes' arrangement clearly worked, and the twist of jealousy Neal had felt was already fading, lost in the tumult of other, more pleasurable emotions.

Later, when they were sated, Neal propped his head on his hand and sketched sweaty patterns over Peter's breastbone with his fingertip. "So, if I wanted to see other people—"

Peter covered Neal's hand. "Whatever you need," he said steadily. "Neal, you really are special to us. El never brings her casual hookups home. And I've never—"

"Yeah, what about you?" Neal kissed Peter, teased his lower lip. "Any more surprises I should know about?"

"I'm as vanilla as they come," said Peter. He rolled Neal onto his back and pinned him there, his mouth soft and fond. "At least, I was until you came along."

Neal reveled in his strength, the quick intellect and dry humor all his own. They were well-matched. They belonged like this. Neal trusted him. "Don't tell anyone," he said, tension prickling the base of his throat at the unfamiliar spilling of secrets, "not even Elizabeth, but so was I."


END