I own nothing. There are no warnings but this is a fluffy, cute one-shot.

the first season of White Collar.

Enjoy~ Thunderstorms

•*White*•*Collar*•

It was almost six in the morning and Neal had barely gotten any sleep. He had been kept awake by nostalgia and nerves.

As much as he could remember from last night, Peter had drove him home and then left after speaking to him about something. Except...Neal had no clue what Peter had spoken to him about.

After Peter had left, Neal had instantly flinched at the storm outside. Lightning flashing and the thunder creepily rumbling after.

There was one thing that Neal always found scary. Thunderstorms. He hated them. And even though he tried being suave and charming, fake like usual, with Peter, he couldn't help the worried look appear in his eyes last night. Now that he remembered and had groaned at the thought. He hoped Peter hadn't noticed.

Once he was ready for bed, he remembered grabbing a bottle of...a bottle of what?

Neal turned toward the table and his eyes widened slightly, gulping. A bottle of Bordeaux.

Of course it had to be that. How had he even known June had that? He must've been so scared that he just grabbed the first thing he saw and started gulping it down without caring. He had no idea how many glasses he had downed before he had drunken himself to sleep and finally laid down without nerves wanting to kill him.

Now it was six in the morning and he had a killer headache. No pills. And Peter was probably pulling up to the mansion at that very moment.

'What the heck was wrong with me!?' He scrambled up to get out of bed but soon heard another round of thunder strike outside. It was still going on?

He jumped, sliding quickly back under his covers and hiding for a minute before realizing how childish this was. He had his hands covering his head like he was being beaten. And he was curled in a ball trembling underneath his bed sheets.

But it was too late. And the door unlocked and opened without a knock or a 'can I come in?', just the lock turning and the door opening in seconds. No time for Neal to scramble to find himself in that amount of time.

He bit his lip and shut his eyes tightly, hearing Peter.

"Neal, are you ready to go? We don't need to be late again." Peter called, looking to the table first before over to the bed with a slight look of worry etching into his tone as he spoke.

He inspected the bed for a second before glancing back to the bottle of Bordeaux and the two glasses, one that had fallen over and was spilling out liquid all over the counter, and the other empty, but upright.

Peter wasn't sure if Neal had someone over, or if he had just drunken out of those two cups. He realized after those thoughts that it was a Bordeaux. Not the usual 'Meet Neal, drink the expensive wine so you can fall in love with him.' No, that was his and Kate's thing to drink Bordeaux.

So...was Kate with him?

Peter opened his mouth to speak again, but only let out a squeak of concern when he heard a small whimper come from underneath Neal's covers.

Peter realized that if Kate was here, she would be either in the back or hiding somewhere. Because that cover was covering only one person and that person had to be curled into a ball, unless it was a dog.

After a minute of watching the covers, thunder and lightning streaked across the sky and Peter noticed the covers try and curl in on themselves even more and another whimper met the air.

And that's when he moved.

Peter walked up to the bed and gently grabbed one end of the covers before taking a deep breath and hoping Neal wasn't naked before slowly lifting and peeling it back.

At first all he saw was a dark brown head of hair that was all disheveled and sticking up everywhere. But as he uncovered a little more, Peter saw a face. Like a child, Neal was curled up in a ball, eyes closed, and tear stains on either side of his face.

Peter's eyes widened when he noticed the young man was shivering in fear as he ducked his head and tried hiding further from Peter.

"Neal." He whispered, placing a reassuring hand on his CI's shoulder and kneeling down at the bed so that the ex-con could look him in the eyes.

"Neal?" He asked gently again, rubbing his shoulder as he waited patiently for the young man to open his eyes.

The CI had his eyes shut tightly, but his handler was calm and reassuring, showing him it was fine.

He slowly opened his blue eyes and he looked Peter in the eyes with fear.

Peter smiled at the fear stricken Neal and didn't give the con a chance to flee, he let go of his shoulder and wrapped his hand around Neal's shivering back with a push. He wrapped his other arm around Neal's neck and the back of his head, and pulling toward himself a little, allowing his CI to pull out of he hug if he wanted. But the con showed no signs of wanting to move on his own, although he clearly wanted a hug. So Peter pulled him in the rest of the way and wrapped his arms around him.

Neal melted into his arms and tucked his face into the crevice of Peter's neck. His hair smelling of expensive shampoo and strawberries.

Peter rubbed the con's back reassuringly. Closing his own eyes as he held onto the young man before him protectively.

Neal calmed down a little, closing his eyes and shivering less than before. But that soon ended as soon as the next round of lightning and thunder hit the city of New York.

He flinched in Peter's arms and made a move to get away, but Peter just held him tighter, knowing his CI was just scared and the nerves got to him.

"It's okay, you're okay..." Peter whispered, gently carding his hand through the chocolate locks of hair that seemed to be softer than anything.

Neal let out shuddered breaths, trying to listen to Peter's reassurances and gentle touches. But the thunder and lightning got into his mind faster than he cared to admit.

Neal had no idea where this fear had come from, or why he was so afraid of the thunder and lightning, but he was too scared to think about that at the moment.

"Neal? You're okay. Can you hear me?" Peter asked softly, continuing to massage Neal's hair and card his hand through it. His other hand had stopped rubbing, but he went back to it after the try-to-escape move.

Neal shuddered and had his arms together, one hand clutching the other. But one hand unwrapped the other and slowly, hesitantly, was placed around Peter's chest.

"Uh...huh." Was heard after a few seconds of silence. Peter's heart broke at the sound of the response. It was so scared. Neal was so scared.

Peter hugged a little tighter and stopped carding his hand through his CI's hair. Instead, he held the back his head as if he was a baby.

Neal relaxed slightly against the touch, letting out short breaths of air through his mouth.

Each hot breath of air was felt against Peter's neck and he couldn't have been more grateful. Grateful that the young man he was holding...was actually trusting him. He was letting his handler hold him, card his hands through his hair, and comfort him as if he was his own father.

Peter smiled slightly at that thought. Rubbing his CI's back, he glanced a look down at him, carefully maneuvering the young man so that he could get a better look at his face and let him feel more comfortable.

Neal had wet tears running down his face, eyes closed again, except this time not squeezed shut. He looked more relaxed, and his mouth was in a small frown.

His CI was wrapped into a ball, a ball that wasn't fully complete as he had slightly moved into Peter's hold. The young con had wrapped his arms around Peter's chest like a little kid and he felt safer than he ever had.

However, even though he felt safe, another lightning and thunder struck outside and he jumped, trying to curl in on himself once more. Except that didn't work and he almost kneed Peter in the stomach. And without Peter stopping him, he would've accidentally kicked him.

Peter let go of Neal's back after he had flinched and immediately put his hands on his CI's left knee, stopping him from curling in any further.

"Neal, can you talk to me?" He asked gently, slowly letting go of Neal's knee and put his hand back on the young con-artist's back.

Neal didn't respond for several seconds, but when he finally did Peter's heart melted even more, if that was possible.

"P'ter...'m scared..."

Neal whispered, clutching Peter's shirt in an attempt to stop the shivering fear.

"Of the storm?-" Neal moved around a little, getting a bit comfortable before wiggling back into Peter's neck.

"Hey, it's okay." He whispered, noticing how Neal peered up at him with big, fearful blue eyes.

Neal looked back down and nodded against Peter's neck before speaking again.

"I-I don't...I don't know what's wrong with me." He whispered, heart-brokenly.

Peter smiled slightly at Neal's answer. He leaned down a little, turned his head to the left, and propped his chin gently down on Neal's dark brown hair.

"It's okay." He whispered again, rubbing the cons back a little more before hugging him a little tighter.

"There's nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing." Assured Peter, leaning down a little further so that his chin wasn't digging into Neal's hair and instead, he looked like he was kissing the top of his CI's head.

Neal didn't respond for a second, as if he was deciding something, then began speaking in broken English.

"I...I don't-I don't remember...the last time. I think...I think it was in-in the prison...I thought-I thought it wo-would go away." He let out a whimper of fear and snuggled into Peter's safe embrace.

Peter blinked a couple times, trying to make sense of what that meant.

"You mean...the last time you were scared?" He asked softly, as if talking to an animal who might run if he didn't. Which might actually have happened if he wasn't holding onto him.

Neal shook his head a little, "No. The last-the last time a thunder...thunder storm hap-happened." Neal let out a small hiccup like whimper when he said happened.

Peter turned his head and this time actually did plant a small kiss on Neal's hair, letting his CI react to that before having to continue.

Instead of freaking out, Neal leaning into Peter even more, seeking comfort more than he wanted to run.

"Neal?"

"Mhm?" A small mumbled reply came.

"There's nothing wrong with you...okay? You've just got a fear of thunder storms. It could happen to anyone, bud." He whispered to him, planting another kiss on his hair before pulling back and starting to let go of his CI.

Neal didn't know what to do or how to react, so he just clung tighter to his safe haven and closed his eyes tight. He didn't want to be alone with the storm again.

"Ple-please, stay P'ter." He opened his eyes and looked at him with huge pleading blue eyes.

Peter stopped moving and smiled down at Neal before reaching down and unlatching the clutched hands that were holding tightly onto his suit. He gently moved Neal's hands away from him as he stood.

"I'm not leaving, bud. I'm going to get some water. I think -and hope- Reece would understand why we're late today." Explained Peter softly before turning around and walking to the kitchen.

Luckily, Neal could still see him from the bed and just watched him. As though he made sure that Peter didn't walk out on him at a dark time.

Neal took a quick glance out the window to see rain hitting the glass. Shuddering, he looked back to Peter and watched him come back with a cup and some thing in his other hand.

Neal watched him place the cup on the side table before opening his other hand and reaching out to hand it to his CI.

Neal peered at his handlers hand, which held two small pills that looked like two small blue eyes looking back up at him.

Peter grabbed the cup and handed it to him also. Neal grabbed both and eyed them curiously and then looked at Peter with suspicion.

Peter gave him a hurt look before nodding toward the bottle of Bordeaux.

"It's left open and has two glasses. One was empty and the other was full but had fallen over, spilled all over the table. I'd guess you drank a lot last night, so, here's some Advil. Since you probably have a hang over, I'd guess." Explained Peter.

Neal looked over at the bottle with a look of longing in his tear stained face before back down at the cup and pills. He sat like that for a minute or so before slowly looking back up at his handler.

Peter looked down at his CI, who looked up at him with huge blue, adorable eyes.

"Kate...if she were here...she'd do the same thing...except...I think she would've drunken with me..." He whispered up at Peter before looking back down at the pills.

Peter crouched down again, placing his hand on Neal's shoulder with a look of reassurance.

"I don't know much about Kate, but I do know that if she cared about you, she wouldn't have left you all alone like this." He told Neal truthfully, squeezing his shoulder once before standing up and gesturing to the pills and cup.

Neal sighed, looking at the pills before moving his hand up, head back, and gulping them down with the water cup.

He grimaced when he felt them pass his throat by before putting his water down and looking back up at Peter again.

They stood and sat in uncomfortable silence before Peter backed up a bit and looked out the window, the storm was actually clearing.

Neal's gaze slowly met the floor and he stayed staring at the floor by his feet before looking at Peter again, eyes widening when he realizes what just happened.

"That-that never happened." He blurted out, standing up immediately. The headache pounded lightly in his head and he wobbled slightly before he quickly walked around the other on of the bed to be on the the other side.

Peter watched his CI with a raised eyebrow before nodding, "Yeah, never happened. I don't need anyone knowing I hugged my CI and kissed his head."

Neal's eyebrows raised when he heard the last part, "You actually did that?"

The question passed through Peter's mind as he quickly thought of what Neal's reaction had been. He had thought he was fine with it. Did he not think it was actually Peter or did he think it was Peter's nose or something?

Peter stared at him for a second before shrugging and then looking about the home.

"You are no where near ready." He stated, eyeing the place before turning back to his CI while biting his lip.

"I know...I-I'm um-Sorry, sorry." Neal stuttered out bashfully and ducked his head, brown hair blocking his vision and his eyes as he looked down at the bed.

To Peter, he looked like a punished child that was only in a t-shirt and boxers. He smiled, "No, I'm sorry I didn't say anything."

Neal's head shot up and moved slightly as if cocking his head like a curious dog, "About what?"

"I saw your worried look last night. I didn't say anything about it because I thought it was just because of Mozzie or something. I should've said something." Peter informed him, biting the inside of his lip.

Neal's eyes widened slightly, gulping he answered quietly, "It's fine...I probably would've just blown it off as nothing anyways. And like you said, it could've happened to anyone."

Peter gave him a smile and turned around. "Well. I'll help clean up that mess.-" Peter gestured to the Bordeaux, "Now you go get dressed and...do whatever Neal Caffrey does to get ready for the day."

When Neal didn't respond or move, Peter slowly looked towards him and eyed the young con-man.

Neal was staring back at him, but with curious eyes. His head was still cocked slightly to the side like a cute Husky.

"The storms finished, it's just rain now. Your safe." Peter gave him a small smile, reassuring him briefly, before turning back around and beginning to pick up the glasses.

When he still got no response, Peter turned back to the frozen Neal Caffrey with concern shining in his eyes.

"Are you-"

"Why are you helping me clean up? I still need to take a shower and pick a suit and-"

"Huh. I thought you already picked a Suit." Peter shrugged, smirking at his curious CI.

Neal's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment and then his mouth turned into a small 'o' and his eyebrows raised in realization.

"Yeah, that's not what I meant." He dead panned, putting his covers back in place neatly.

Peter shook his head, "Yeah okay. Now go take a shower and get dressed, Sundance. I'll clean up in here."

Neal sighed, finishing up with the bed before yawning adorably and walking past him, toward the the closet.

"Whatever, Butch." He mumbled.

•*White*•*Collar*•