Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was the worst storm of the winter, snow falling all night with no signs of stopping. The last forecast they'd heard called for more than two feet. The power went out around midnight.

They'd built a fire and rearranged the living room, pulling the convertible sofa in front of the fireplace, pillows, comforters and blankets making a nest of the opened bed. They'd kept each other warm.

Peter was drafted to feed them around 4 am. He grumbled, but decamped to reheat Chinese leftovers and put the kettle on for tea. He went back to the living room, wanting to cuddle and reheat himself, but he stopped short in the doorway.

El was on Neal's lap in a chair that they'd hastily shuffled over by the window. They were watching the snowfall. The window rattled in the wind and Neal shivered and pulled El closer, even though they were swaddled in down. She nuzzled at his throat, whispering something that made Neal smile in the unmasked way that was only for his lovers. El laughed, soft and musical, and pulled the comforter over Neal's head like a hood. He kissed her sweetly.

Peter fell in love all over again.