Note: Written for the prompt for the WC Fic Exchange: Angsty, angsty fic where Neal loves Peter but wishes he didn't.
Warnings for hints at psychological issues and very imperfect characters.
Fic:
Peter's saying good-bye at the door and it makes Neal nervous.
It's because of that look Peter wears. Patient, but expectant.
It's Neal's own fault, really. He's flirted with Peter since before they met, when it was just a chase. And it's not like he's hidden his affection for Peter all that well these past few years either. So of course Peter might be a little confused that after all this time, Neal suddenly doesn't seem interested.
But Peter just gives that look that says he cares about Neal, but that Neal will need to make the first move, and that Peter will be ready and willing when he does.
And fine, maybe Neal wouldn't be able to decipher all that in just a look if Elizabeth hadn't basically spelled it out a few months ago. She figured out even before they met that Neal wanted Peter. But it was only a few months ago that she told him that Peter likes him back, that he's ready and trusting enough to try it, and that she, never a big believer in monogamy, is fine with it. Of course, she also told Neal that Peter had dual concerns (does he feel coerced, and is he really over Kate), which meant that Neal would have to make the first move because Peter wouldn't. Even in the unlikely event that Peter were smooth enough to do so, El had added with a wink.
But El told Neal and now he knows for sure that it is not just wishful thinking on his own part.
Peter wants him.
That's a fact. Peter wants Neal, possibly almost as much as Neal wants Peter.
And Peter is kind and understanding and doesn't push, and just lets his hand linger a little too long on Neal's shoulder as he drops Neal off at June's door. An invitation, but a gentle one, and more importantly, one that doesn't have an expiration date.
One that tells Neal that he could invite Peter to stay. He would stay the night and then stay the weekend and would try to build something big and soulful and beautiful with Neal, because that's just how Peter Burke does things.
Instead, Neal will say that he's tired and needs his rest. And Peter will nod, and assume that it's because Neal is not over Kate. Even though it's been two years. And then Peter will go home to Elizabeth, just like every other night.
Which is good. It's how it should be.
Because Neal can't fall in love Peter.
He just can't do it.
Because Neal has learned from experience that there are too many good reasons - reasons Neal can't bring himself to ignore - not to start something with Peter.
So every time Neal hears the unspoken invitation, he pretends not to. Even though it's a punch in the gut to see Peter right there in front of him, offering everything he's wanted for years, and to just smile and shut the door as if the gift means nothing. It's worse than not being able to touch a Michelangelo sculpture, worse than being stranded without your rappelling hooks, worse even than not being able to climb or crawl to freedom. The only thing Neal could compare it to at all was that feeling that you could have saved someone but didn't.
Neal hates himself every time he says no. He never really says the word, but he turns Peter down again and again and again, by not taking what Peter wants to give. And Neal despises himself for it.
But he knows it's the only choice. There are too many reasons he can't fall in love with Peter Burke.
He has to remind himself of these reasons when he sees that slight fall of disappointment on Peter's face, when he sees Peter's back retreating, going to a home that Neal has no part in. He repeats the reasons to himself again and again, so he won't change his mind during a sleepless night, so he won't call Peter at 3:00AM to profess his love and devotion. He repeats the reasons to himself every time he feels that twinge, that overwhelming burst of affection that tells him he is in grave danger of falling for Peter too hard to come back from.
In other words, he repeats them often.
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1. Peter doesn't know everything he thinks he knows. He definitely doesn't know Neal.
2. Peter is delusional about a lot of things.
3. Peter is not an easy man to live with.
4. With Peter, everything is complicated. Immensely, painfully, absurdly complicated.
5. Peter is, at times, kind of a bastard.
The problem (one of the problems) is that Peter wants everything. He wants more than Neal in his bed. He wants honesty and commitment and love (almost as much as Neal wants these things from Peter).
But Peter also wants Neal to join their life, to integrate seamlessly into some idea of a fantasy that Peter has (that El, somehow, seems to have bought into despite her good sense). Peter thinks that once Neal becomes this new person, fits into this new role, Neal will be safe and stable and law-abiding and well-adjusted and happy.
Peter seriously believes this.
As much as Peter tries to drill it into Neal's head to live in the real world, not 'Neal-world,' it's Peter who lives in a fantasy.
Peter has a lot of fantasies, actually.
For example, Peter, while self aware in any number of ways, seems to believes that what he and Neal have is fairly simple.
Peter doesn't think that the rules of the game are complex and difficult at all. To him, the rules are straightforward: solve cases and don't break the rules. Move three spaces, collect normal life.
Peter believes a lot of things are simple that aren't...
For example, Peter also believes that he - Peter Burke - is a simple man. An open book. Rational, direct, and pragmatic. None of those twisty psychological complexities that get people into trouble. The opposite of Neal, who is impulsive or mercurial or bursting with too much creativity and defiance, whose mind gets bored too easily and whose heart gets moved too deeply.
That's the amazing thing. Peter really, truly believes he is a simple man.
Neal knows better.
So does El, for that matter. So does Peter's team, Peter's boss, and everyone else who knows him. Because Peter might be calm and rational and constant in some ways, and yes, that solidity was real, it was as real as Neal had ever known in anyone, but Peter is most definitely not a simple man.
There is nothing uncomplicated about him.
Peter is full of contradictions and surprises. He knows what you think he doesn't, feels what you suspect he shouldn't, and does things that surprise even himself. He always has something up his sleeve, and at least half the time he kept it back on purpose.
And his problem-solving skills - the ones Peter claimed were no more than intelligence combined with the will to roll one's sleeves up and get to work - they actually come from Peter's adaptability, Neal knows. Peter's capacity to engage in a dozen little shifts at once, Peter's constant metamorphoses of mood and aim and approach. And if you wanted to stay in step with Peter Burke, you had better keep up.
With Neal, for instance, Peter might be thirty different people in the space of five minutes:
The partner who respects his opinion. The self-appointed mentor who shines with pride. The lawman who put him away and might do it again and wants Neal to know it. The buddy he shares inside jokes with. The constant companion who knows that Neal will bring up Degas before Neal knows himself. The fierce investigator who knows the same thing. The confidant who wants to know every inch of Neal's past. The plausible denier who practically covers his ears when Neal talks, just in case. The father figure who adores him. The father figure who wants to kick his ass. The best friend who feels hurt and rejected that Neal doesn't want to talk about his feelings. The boss who wants him to put his feelings aside and do the job the way it's supposed to be done. The man who perks up because Neal has walked into the room, who enjoys his company more than almost anyone's. The man who chased him for years and years and won. The protector. The agent. The man Neal trusts most. The man who, if Neal ran, would be the only one who would be able to find him. The guy who can hit the ball back when Neal semi-flirts because hey, he's married and so it's not like it means anything anyway, and even if it does, would that be so bad? The man who freaks out at the thought of hitting on a stranger for a case, blushing like a teenager. The sensual powerhouse who doesn't hesitate to talk about any aspect of his sexual imagination with someone he actually trusts. The man who gets into Neal's personal space for no reason, who is surely too perceptive not to notice that he takes Neal's breath away. The doofus who needs Neal's advice for clothes and shoes and anniversary presents. The only man who has consistently outfoxed him - not just won, but truly outfoxed. The bully who enjoys gloating about how much power he has over Neal, about the fact that he won their game of cat and mouse and now the mouse belongs to him. The man who held him back, embrace like a vice, when all Neal could think of was running straight into a burning wreckage. The man who saved him in every way a person could be saved. The man who never much liked Kate, who thought the very worst of her and didn't see why Neal could love her that much, even if he stopped speaking ill of her after she died. The man who always put his hand on Neal, a hand in the small of his back, as if Neal needed to be told where to go, as if Peter's hand were his guide to everywhere he was supposed to be, infuriating and comforting all at once. The man who looked at Neal with a hunger, one that ran deep and intense in Peter's eyes, so that even before Neal couldn't figure out if it were a desperation to change him or a desperation to have him, Neal sure as hell knew that hunger was there.
Simple man, my ass, Neal thinks.
And in all these shifts, these many different thoughts, it is always Neal who has to figure out what was happening, to glean which way Peter was leaning, to read and accommodate and respond as best he could. Peter sometimes acted like he thought Neal's mind was an unsolvable puzzle, a labyrinth with no strings to follow, like there were all these layers and paths that might shift position at any moment. Peter acted like Neal was utterly unpredictable.
But it is Peter whose mind will take unpredictable turns. Peter's ideas, emotions, relationships shuffling about at exhilirating speed. Brilliant, baffling Peter, with Neal scrambling to stay a step ahead.
Or, to be frank, running full pace just to stay even.
Everyone assumes Neal is this tornado that came into Peter's life, but really it's clear: Neal is just the house, uprooted by the real tornado, that house in scratchy old film footage that flies in circles and lands a hundred miles away, that looks the same on the outside but that might be in any shape if someone actually dared to walk inside.
Peter spins Neal around and around and around. They both know it. And they both like it.
And, worst of all, they both know that the other likes it.
Of course Neal is falling for Peter. He always loved the ones who kept him on edge.
-
That night, for example, as they worked on the case at Neal's place, everything was fine. It was laid-back, a typical case, and they talked over some details over dinner as they sat on the couch.
A nice peaceful evening at home.
Except that it was Peter. So Neal had to be at the top of his game.
Even over the little things.
For example: Neal had Peter's favorite brand of beer in the fridge. As usual.
As Peter thanked him for the beer with a quick smile, Neal joked (except it wasn't wholly a joke), "How come you don't keep my favorite wine at your place?"
Peter gave him one of those aggressive smiles that was half ribbing and half remember-who's-in-charge. "That's the way it works," he said, "It's your job to make me happy, not the other way around."
I own you, in other words. Peter's answer to everything.
And of course Neal knew that there were plenty of good ripostes that Peter could have used to answer Neal's question: Neal's tastes are too finicky and expensive, or there's usually something at the Burke house that Neal can drink since El has good taste in wine too, or Neal has found nothing but hospitality and warmth at Peter's house, or maybe simply that Neal should stop worrying about drinks and get back to work.
But Peter had to bring up that thing again. About how very unequal they are.
Peter loves talking about that.
Neal knew that Peter would say that it's to keep Neal in line, to remind him that he's accountable to someone, that certain choices give you power and certain choices take it away. Or that that he's just reminding Neal who's in charge so Neal doesn't start to think he can do something stupid. Neal knows that Peter genuinely believes that if he cuts Neal any slack at all, soon Neal will be doing something outlandish and risky. (And fun).
That's a real reason; it's not the only reason, but it's real. This is, in fact, Peter's gameplan in almost everything. He lets the other person know how much power he has and how much they don't, and then Peter gets what he wants. He raises his weapon many times but almost never shoots anyone. Because he doesn't have to. He just lets them know what he could do and then he waits for them to do as he says.
This side of Peter scares Neal. To an extent. But it also is the perfect expression of who Peter is. Strong and agressive and dominant, but protective and gentle too. Smart but direct, using power and intelligence and the fact that people automatically think he's telling the truth.
He's the best Neal has ever seen. He has the brilliance and the consistency both, and if Peter didn't wear his admiration for Neal on his sleeve, then Neal would probably be jealous as hell of his conning abilities.
Well, that, and because with Peter it's not really a con. He actually is that honest.
And Neal shouldn't be thinking of all this - all the things that make Peter a riddle Neal can't solve- as Peter's being an ass about the beer and the wine. He should be thinking about the part where Peter is acting like an ass.
Because even Peter would admit that there's more to his gleeful declaration of superior position than just an encouragement to obey the rules. It's verbal sparring, too. A victory lap for the man who caught him. It's fun, it's their thing, it's their competitive give-and-take.
Peter would also admit that he's just gloating, that he enjoys it. The power he has. He doesn't see anything wrong with that, since it was power rightfully gained.
Not that Neal doesn't understand; Neal's proud when he cons. Especially if it's a really difficult job.
But Neal wants to make some witty remark to Peter, about the wine and the beer and how they're not talking about beverage at all, but Peter has already moved on to the case they are working on, and by the time Neal is ready to offer a theory on that, Peter is asking about what Neal was up to with Mozzie yesterday, and by the way that kidnapped girl Neal helped months ago just had a birthday and isn't it nice that Neal was able to save her life by working with rather than against him (subtle, Peter). Then the current case and why Peter wasn't sure Neal should go in since last time Neal endangered himself and really Neal deserves to look at mortgages all day, and also El thinks it's been too long since Neal came over for dinner, and has Neal given any more thought about what he wants his life to be like in five years, and don't forget to check that green file because it has the emails they need to examine for clues, and oh yeah, Neal's value system is all backwards and shouldn't he use his talents for something good, and what was Neal doing making nice with the woman who happens to have a cousin in the security business, and also what was Neal doing during the famous Klee heist eight years ago, and how did that other meeting go with that guy last week, and oh yeah, the orange file has pertinent information too.
Figuring out where he stood with Peter was like trying to build a skyscraper with blocks of ice in 100 degree weather. As soon as he gets a good grip, it turns to water.
Because every conversation was a test, a high, a burst of something bright and challenging and almost overwhelming.
In other words, Peter can be a real ass. He pulls Neal's emotions like he's playing with yarn. He thinks Neal has a simple choice: dwell on the past, or change his entire life and personality and live a nice, simple life with a nice, simple man like Peter.
Truthfully, Peter drives him crazy.
The last person who drove him this crazy was Kate.
He tries not to think about this. About the fact that this list of why he shouldn't love Peter is full of reasons that just make Neal love Peter more.
He tries not to think about the fact that his liferaft is just pulling him deeper.