Be warned: Spoilers for season 4's summer finale! Because Gloves Off was an episode of hurt and Vested Interest became one of comfort. And also because Neal: you can't just show up with your face all perfect and kicked-puppies and Peter: you don't just say things like that and not expect me to ASDFGIcan'teven.
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Short for Confidence
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He doesn't know where they stand.
And maybe that's exactly how it should be.
He is not supposed to like him (even when he does, he does with all his con man heart.)
It's a string pulled taut, a hope worn through. It's his world torn open with a single phone call, boxing rings forgotten, case files tossed to the side. And maybe it is only because he has always been the one disappearing, he isn't used to being left behind like this.
But his knuckles are bright red and raw, his artist's fingers clenching together to form a fist. And he isn't a violent man but it is like an explosion of a plane he is supposed to be on, a best friend shot and left for dead, a U-boat treasure on fire.
It hurts, this degree of betrayal.
He calls in sick the next day, and arrives at the bureau on time the day after.
Peter brings him coffee, he feeds him lies he doesn't even try to make convincing. Peter offers him a ride, shotgun with or without Jones, Neal tells him no. And while Peter asks him the same questions, he answers like he is playing defensive with the offence.
He deliberately doesn't look, just pretends he doesn't see Peter try.
But he can still see the slow frustration building, the realization that Peter arrives at. And like the con man he can never train out of himself, Neal sees this coming at him a mile away.
Still, it catches him off guard, the ultimatum that this all finally comes to.
"Why did you take my deal?"
Even when he is scrambling for purchase, his heart beating in quick loud bursts, Neal's question still manages to sound as though he has been making the shots all along.
But the Caffrey smile fades away, his con man disguise falling far from where he can still reach.
"After all those years of chasing you," Peter admits him with a smile like it's no big deal, like everything is just as it is, like this isn't what he has been trying to hide for a better part of their history together, "I realized I like you."
Neal drops his gaze, imagines this for a joke it isn't.
Because Neal may be smart, and Peter may like (love, if El is any indication) smart, nothing is supposed to come of this mutual a—and no, he won't allow himself to give a name to that.
"Peter," and he isn't loud, they are standing in the bullpen after all but Peter tilts his head back like he doesn't expect Neal to be this quick with his decision, "when did you realize?"
He doesn't ever turn to pull him into his arms for something else other than a hug (almost halfway around the world, he did, once when he thought he would lose the man for good), not while Neal still have the tracker around his ankle, not while Peter is his keeper.
Not when he is still trying to trust him with all his heart.
"When I got that last birthday card you sent me from jail."
XXX Kuro
Feel free to blast me with your post-WC-summer-finale feels, I know I needed to load off (hence the fic.)