Speeding through the streets of New York, having obtained a cast iron assurance from Mozzie that he hadn't heard from Neal, Peter's heart continued to beat an uncomfortable pace. He was bordering on frantic with worry, whilst at the same time coercing himself to act like an agent.
He knew Neal wouldn't go somewhere familiar, because he knew all his favourite places to go when he was upset.
He also knew that the kid was too agitated to come up with a proper escape plan, which was his only asset in this newest debacle. His brown eyes scanned the sidewalks with an acute vision, but came up empty.
No floppy haired, grinning art connoisseur was to be found.
His stomach jolted another notch as he remembered Neal's tirade. His anger. The utter rage dancing in the blue eyes that usually housed only mischief.
He was clearly missing something, there was no way the young man would throw that kind of a fit just because Peter couldn't clear an increase in his radius.
What he was missing though, what had slipped past his radar was anyone's guess.
…and when it came to Neal, anyone's guess was as good as the next guys'.
His cell flashed, and though he knew it wouldn't be his charge, because his cell was on his desk back at the office, his heart stilled.
Maybe it was Mozzie, maybe…maybe he'd seen him.
His hopes sank when he saw the caller id.
Hughes.
He groaned.
Neal wasn't the only one who'd walked out on his boss without permission today. Deciding to bite the bullet, he answered the call.
The irate voice instantly sailed through the connection, and he closed his eyes wearily, willing himself not to snap.
When he finally got a word in edgeways, his aversion to lying was uncerimonously cast aside.
"Yes sir…I know I left without clearance…no, it's not about Neal…"
He closed his eyes despairingly.
"Yes…the anklet malfunctioned, Marshall's are working on it…Neal's at home…he's….sick."
Who was he even kidding?
"An emergency at home sir, my house its uhh…flooded…"
Ok, pretence was over. Listening half heartedly to the bollocking that was drifting over the line, Peter hummed and hawed at the correct times. Of course Hughes knew that Neal was in the wind and that his lead agent was also in said wind, chasing him.
He felt gratitude mixed with foreboding as Hughes agreed to keep Neal's absconding under wraps for twenty four hours, accompanied with dire threats to find and anklet him before that time frame expired.
The foreboding increased as his boss issued dire instructions to be in his office first thing tomorrow morning.
The line went dead.
Sighing, Peter threw it on the dashboard and continued on with vastly more important pursuits.
Finding the kid.
He had only thrown it down, with the infernal thing shrilled once more.
Seeing a long time snitch's name flash across the led, he sighed heavily. Tempering his decision to ignore it was the reminder that he was a federal agent.
Answering once more, he barked out in clipped tones that this wasn't a good time.
The confident voice on the other end cut him short with his rebuke.
"…but I think your boy is in a spot of bother" it drawled, knowing it had hit payday with the information possessed.
Peter's pulse quickened, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened.
"Neal?…Are you talking about Neal?" he nearly all but shouted.
The voice sighed.
"Well damn Agent Burke, how am I meant to know his name? He's about…I'd guess maybe late twenties early thirties, very pretty…great hair? Wearing about a thousand dollars in designer gear?"
The pulse quickened further.
That was definitely Neal.
"What kind of trouble?" he barked, "where is he? Where are you? Who's with him?"
The eyes attaching to the caller widened.
"Calm down man" it said in surprise, "first, we talk business. You know I don't just go around handing out freebies. You want that information, it's gonna cost you."
Snarling, Peter bit his lip in rage.
"Whatever the hell you want, it's yours. Just tell me where he is now."
The eyes widened further.
"Sweet. You know I'm gonna hold you to that now, right?"
The steering wheel was coming under increased pressure.
"Right" Peter hissed, his chest heaving with the efforts of his beating heart.
Smiling, the caller began dishing the scoop.
"Your boy's got himself into a spot of bother down in the Fredrick Projects. I'd say he's got about uhh…eight, maybe nine of them around him. They haven't pulled a punch yet, which is weird. He keeps…smiling at them. Your man's got a screw loose coming down here looking like that and then smiling like a circus clown."
The caller paused to take breath before continuing, but the line had gone dead.
The line had gone dead and an engine was revved to full capacity as Peter u-turned in the middle of a busy road, and careered back in the opposite direction with a feeling of sickening dread in his stomach.
The Frederick Projects were notorious, indifferent to, and unhampered by, a plethora of different police initiatives and redevelopment plans.
The thoughts of Neal there…alone, surrounded was the nearest thing to a heart attack he'd ever had.
The rather seasoned car groaned under the pressure he was exerting on the gas as it tore along the busy streets. The edges of his mind blurred as he raced, the murder rate in those projects were a significant percentage of the overall NY homicide rate this quarter.
He inched the car a little faster.
Within nine and a half minutes, the tyres squealed into the main street of the gang torn block. He slowed the car to a crawl and risked straining several neck muscles as he craned his head this way and that way on the lookout for the kid.
He didn't have to crane long.
Loping into the next street over, Peter instantly spied a gathering of youths enclosing a slightly older man, on the steps of what the FBI suspected to be a large scale crack house.
Swallowing down the acid that rose up in his neck in response to the sight of Neal obviously trying to con his way out of the situation, he felt for his piece against his hip.
The car suddenly stopped coasting and resumed screeching as he sped down the street, cursing the fact that he had used his own car and not a federal car in his pursuit.
No sirens.
He saw a collective head turn as the sounds of his approaching car reached crescendo level.
Grinding to a halt, he closed his eyes briefly knowing that what he was doing was absolutely moronic on every single trained federal level, but also knowing he didn't give a damn.
That was Neal in the middle of that gang.
He saw the kid's eyes widen as he sprang from the car, drawing his firearm in one smooth motion and bellowing FBI in the direction of the fearsome gathering.
For a split second, nothing happened.
…and then everything happened.
Neal, thankfully, had the common sense to duck and cover as the criminals around him began scarpering and throwing packages to each other as they ran.
Peter, for his part, pretended to give a rats' ass about the drugs passing off and the fleeing, but all he was really doing was forcing them to run as fast and as far away from Neal as possible.
When the last youth had disappeared from sight, and the panicked hollering had melted into the distance, he turned and sped towards a now upright, but very pale looking kid.
Running a manic gaze over him he could see no blood, no cuts…no damage.
He sucked in some air.
"Are you hurt? Did they touch you?"
His voice even to him, was a solid octave higher than usual and his heart hammered with every syllable.
The fervent shaking of the head in front of him brought about an instant sense of calm.
"No" Neal croaked out, "they didn't lay a hand on me."
"You're sure? You're absolutely sure?"
A lock of stray hair fell into the blue eyes as the head was nodded instantly.
Closing his eyes in wearied thanks, Peter nodded slowly and instinctually laid a guiding hand on the younger mans shoulder.
"Come on…let's get you out of here and home."
Thankfully, the younger of the two allowed himself to be guided to the car without a fuss, but inside his turmoil was growing stronger by the second.
How did Peter find him?
What would have happened if he didn't?
The brilliant eyes closed in thankful anguish. He knew what would have happened if they didn't, and it sure as hell wasn't pretty.
Clambering into the awaiting passenger seat numbly, he couldn't believe that he had left the office only a mere two or three hours ago.
It seemed like years had passed since that moment.
As the car suddenly started beneath him, he snuck a look at the driver. The look of relief that made Neal's insides writhe with guilt was still very apparent, but so was a slowly simmering rage.
His stomach did an uncomfortable little flip.
He ran his tongue over his parched lips and cleared his throat hesitantly.
"Peter, I-"
A stern shaking of the head cut him off.
"No words. I don't want to hear any words from you. Not unless I ask you a direct question. Clear?"
Groaning inwardly, Neal jerked his head up and down but couldn't suppress the burning question that raged inside him.
"Will you…will you be able to forgive me?" he asked quietly, a vulnerability in his tone that wavered around the entire car.
Hearing the kid's voice, before registering his words, Peter opened his mouth to issue a firm rebuke about the no words violation.
…but he just couldn't.
Not when the tentativeness, and the scared tremor in the boys face made itself known.
Knowing that he was the softest of soft touches, he reached out and laid a warm hand on the kid's knee whilst keeping his eyes on the road.
"What have I told you about that buddy?" he questioned softly.
There was a silence for a moment as Neal collected his thoughts.
"That no matter what I do, no matter how angry you are, you'll always forgive me?" he eventually rattled off, in typical Caffrey fashion that caused Peter to smile slightly despite the situation.
"Then there's your answer."
Feeling the tensed poise of his passenger relax slightly, Peter withdrew his hand and continued the journey back to the Burke household.
Silence reigned in the car, each occupant lost to their own thoughts and much sooner than Neal would have liked, they were swinging into the familiar drive.
Killing the engine, Peter turned a calm but furious gaze on his now shrinking charge.
"Go to your room. I'll be with you in a few minutes."
Gulping slightly, but refraining from arguing, Neal clambered out of the car and fished his keychain out of his pocket. Peter watched as he quickly opened the front door to which he'd long since had a key, and disappear inside.
Throwing himself back in his seat, the elder of the duo rubbed a hand across his eyes and sighed.
He felt staggering relief that the kid was ok, that he was miraculously unharmed. He also felt a radiating rage at his actions and the danger he'd placed himself in.
He sat in the car for close to twenty minutes, listening to a blow by blow commentary on the game, every statistic soothing him slightly.
When the verbal stream came to an end, he assessed his emotions carefully.
He was angry, sure as hell he was angry, but he was in control.
He could be fair.
Biting his lip slightly, he swung himself from the car and began the wearied entry into his home, wondering when El would be home.
Spying the note left on the message board as he shrugged his suit jacket off in the kitchen, he huffed slightly when he saw that she would be late back due to a client meeting.
"As always, I'm left to deal with him" he muttered to no one in particular, throwing his jacket over the counter and grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge. Kicking his shoes off under the stairs, he slowly climbed them, flinching when he saw the missed calls from Hughes as he checked his cell.
Firing off a quick message that he had Neal, and that he would ensure the anklet he kept at his place would be on him before the night was over, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket.
Halting outside the room his charge had effectively claimed as his own, he hesitated for a fraction, before knocking.
The muffled "come in" was heeded, and he strode into the room.
Sitting with his legs under his chin on the bed, was a very morose looking Neal. He had changed into his cotton night ends and an oversized grey t-shirt, which made him look about five years younger than his sharp suit allowed for.
Peter arched a brow.
"Tired?"
A sheepish expression looked back at him.
"A little."
Nodding, he extended a bottle of water and saw down on the bed beside the kid.
He let him drink for a few moments, and sighed at how thirsty he was. Out in the bitter cold, for two hours with only a shirt and tie on him, and no food or drink since breakfast.
He closed his eyes.
Somehow, someway…this lack of nutrition and proper clothing would be all his fault when El heard about today's stunt.
When the bottle was capped, the threw a firm eye in the boy's direction.
"I want answers Neal, and so help me, I want them now."
The words caused an instant tensing of the younger man's body, and he drew his legs up further to his chin, looking at Peter miserably.
A silence pressed upon them, and no information was forthcoming. Realising that some prompting may be in order, the agent of the pair opened his mouth.
"Ok. How about we start with what on earth caused you to throw such a fit and storm out on me?"
The slight squirming that was beginning was not unexpected, but Peter held firm.
"I…I guess I was uhh…upset."
Nodding, Peter waited, but in vein.
"Upset about…?" he prompted eventually, wondering why nothing was simple with this kid.
The suddenly green tinge that took over the boy's face had his eyebrows climbing into his hairline with a rapid pace.
"Neal?" he questioned anxiously, "are you sick?"
A haunted look was thrown his way, as the knees were pulled tighter still to the chest.
It was faint, it was muttered, but Peter still caught the "you're going to think I am."
He blinked.
"What do you mean Neal? C'mon, this isn't a joke. Do you feel ill or something?"
Another tortured glance was directed his way, and Peter's stomach did a lurch.
There was…something going on here. Something he'd obviously missed, and judging by the complexion of the young man's face, it was pretty big.
On Neal's side of the bed, things weren't that much easier.
He knew the time had come and that his days of refusing to tell Peter the truth were over. He knew that his actions today had forced the matter, and that leaving this room without a full explanation was just a non starter.
…and he had never been more terrified in his life.
He felt his hands grow damp with sweat, and he felt his pulse kick into an uncomfortable rhythm.
Running a hand through his hair, he looked over at Peter who was watching him with a completely bewildered expression.
God he really had no clue.
Fidgeting with a hole in his bedspread, he slowly opened his mouth.
"I was upset" he stated again.
Peter blinked once more.
"Yeah bud…I could see that. What I don't know is why or why you keep refusing to tell me…care to help me out with that?"
Nodding, the kid struggled to find words.
He was never speechless or muted, but right now, he couldn't have written a second graders speech.
"I guess…I guess I was just frustrated" he mumbled, toying with the hole a little more.
"Frustrated… about what?"
The gentle tone being used nearly set him over the edge again as he struggled to remain calm.
He looked up.
He owed the man that much.
"About…about my life I guess."
Peter stared.
"Huh?"
Neal's eyes closed of their own volition. He needed to be considerably more direct with the man if there was any hope of this conversation being concluded before Christmas.
"You really want to know?" he asked quietly, his heart hammering against his ribcage.
"Yes Neal I really want to know" Peter answered instantly, growing more and more alarmed by the sombre tone the kid had taken.
Nodding, the boy looked around the room, trying to find the words.
"You remember asking me…if I was upset about a…a girl?"
Peter bobbed his head up and down, warring with a feeling of relief and a feeling of anxiety. If this was about a girl, they could get through it.
He'd seen his ward through Kate, nothing could be as bad as that.
Neal tightened his hold on his legs and looked at Peter with such terrified eyes it was all the man could do to refrain from pulling him into a hug.
"What if I told you I was upset about… erm…not a girl?"
Peter tilted his head in complete confusion.
"Say again?"
Biting his lip forcefully, Neal tried again.
"What if I told you that I was…upset about a guy?" he mumbled quietly, a fiery red blush beginning to spread across his cheeks.
The feeling of confusion merely intensified.
"Did this guy steal your girl or something?" he asked quietly, not understanding the blush that was staring back at him.
A frustrated groan escaped the boy and he blinked in alarm.
"…Neal?"
The amber glow across the young man's face kicked up another notch.
"No Peter" he mumbled in frustration, "there is no girl."
Nodding slowly, the elder man wondered if he could patent the emotion of confusion.
He'd make an absolute fortune.
"So what's the problem then?" he questioned softly, wishing that El was hear so her and the kid cold communicate in their language of tilted heads and raised brows and the whole situation would be resolved.
"I…I" Neal garbled, "well…I guess…I'm not the…the ladies man you think I am…"
Peter stared for another jot before suddenly nodding compassionately.
So that was the problem?
Jeesh. Talk about an overreaction, but Neal was young, it probably was that big a deal to him.
"Oh bud, that's ok. We all go through a…uhm, dry spell now and again. It's nothing to be ashamed of. What about that nice girl, from the coffee shop? You had your eye on her right?"
The younger of the duo stared at him in complete consternation before dropping his head into knees and murmuring "oh my god" into them.
Peter raised a brow.
"C'mon kid, there's no need to get yourself so worked about it. It'll work itself out…you'll meet someone. I know you're angry because you can't go everywhere you'd like to go with a girl, but your sentence is up in a year…there's that right? …and, your point about your radius increase…I get it. You are one of the main reasons we close the cases we do, and even though I can't officially increase your radius, if there's somewhere you want to go…in particular with a girl, just let me know, I'll take you."
He smiled at a wide eyed Neal.
"Don't worry…I'll make myself scarce when I do."
He wondered briefly how the hell the conversation had taken this turn.
He'd been fully prepared to give the kid the lecturing of his life and yet here he was reassuring him that he was still the infamous Neal Caffrey.
"I don't want to go anywhere with a girl Peter" came the eventual whisper, as the blue eyes peeked up from the knees they rested upon.
Confusion lapped against the elder man again, replacing the small slimmer of comprehension he'd been clinging to.
"…then why did you throw a fit about it in my office? Isn't…isn't that what this is all about?"
Blue eyes met brown as the two stared at each other in a mixture of bewilderment and frustration.
"No" Neal eventually croaked, "that's not what this is all about."
Running a hand through his hair in agitation, Peter arched a brow.
"Then what is the matter kid? Will you please use your words?! You know I'm hopeless with this sort of thing…"
Neal snorted.
No arguments there.
"Neal? Is this about Alex…Sara?"
That was it.
The suave Neal was nowhere to be seen as he stared at his more-than-just-a-handler with an almost frightening ferocity.
The truth he had been harbouring for longer than he cared to remember suddenly surged in him, its containment period well and truly over.
"GOD DAMMNIT Peter! Can't you see that I'm trying to tell you I'm GAY?!"
The silence that descended upon the room was deafening in its intensity as the two men stared at each other wordlessly.
Neal's heart was rampaging in his chest, whilst Peter's was finally slowing down.
The heavy quiet was suddenly broken.
"I mean…it's not as if it's a sudden thing" Neal was rambling, running a hand through his hair and refusing to meet Peter's gaze. "I guess I've always kind of known, but I've never really accepted it. I did love Kate…she was the only one I ever really loved. But…but recently, it's just been…harder to ignore, harder to pretend it's not real."
He sucked in a breath.
"I guess when Kate died and no one else came close, I was forced to accept the truth."
With that, he shut his mouth tight, and still refusing to look at Peter he stared at his knees.
Silence reigned once again, before Peter eventually sliced through it.
With a soft "oh."
He stared at the tortured looking kid, relief vibrating through his every pore.
"Why didn't you just say that son?"
Neal gaped.
…really gaped.
"What?" he whispered, "are you serious?"
Peter nodded immediately, and sent a warm smile the boy's way that was born out of the bubble of relief that was blanketing his body.
"Yeah Neal, I'm serious. We could have avoided all this if you'd just told me" he said almost conversationally, reaching out and resting a hand on the nearest tucked up knee.
The gentle touch, the serene smile and the calm acceptance was making the younger man's head spin.
"You…you don't care that I'm…that I'm…?"
"Gay" Peter finished for him firmly, "that you're gay. It's not a dirty word, say it for me please."
The reforming con stared.
"Please, Neal?"
A brief hesitation was evident, before the lips moved obediently.
"That…that I'm gay?"
Squeezing the knee he held reassuringly, Peter smiled another beaming smile.
"Good lad…and no, Neal, I don't care if you're gay. I don't care if you're not gay, I don't care if you're bi sexual and I don't care if you're a unicorn on Tuesdays."
The look of shock tore at his heart.
"Do you understand me Neal? I. Do. Not. Care."
He squeezed the knee again.
"Hell, I'm proud of you buddy" he murmured, "proud of you…"
Neal continued to gawp.
This was surreal….so, so surreal.
"I thought you'd hate me…find me…disgusting or something" he mumbled eventually, his confusion getting the best of him as he sniffled somewhat.
It was Peter's turn to gape.
However, instinct soon took over shock, and he reached out and drew the kid into his chest. For a moment he feared Neal would refuse, but after a second, he melted into his arms and rested his head on his shoulder.
"How could you think that bud?" Peter asked wonderingly, completely nonplussed as to where the young man would have gotten the idea from.
Wriggling out of the hug, Neal looked up with wide eyes.
"I…I don't know" he confessed suddenly, and…he didn't know.
He had never heard Peter utter a single homophobic remark. He had never seen the man behave in any way other than his usual self around gay people and he'd never so much as seen him laugh at a distasteful gay joke when he heard it.
…and it was then he realised.
It wasn't Peter's reaction he had feared.
It was…James'.
In the short time he'd known that…man, he'd heard him make the most disgustingly lewd comments about homosexuality, seen him openly mock any gay person he happened to come across.
He flinched.
How could he have thought Peter would be like that?
The same Peter who was staring at him now with nothing but warmth in his deep brown eyes.
"I think…" he mumbled, "I think I got confused…" his cheeks reddened, "between you and uhh…James."
…and all of a sudden Peter understood. The familiar rage that flared in him whenever that…man, came into his thoughts spread throughout him as his jaw tightened.
Willing himself to remain calm, he placed a gentle hand under Neal's chin and tipped it upwards.
"Are you listening to me kid?"
The head bobbed up and down.
"There is nothing wrong with being gay. There is nothing wrong with you. You're the same hard headed, menace that you've always been, but I wouldn't want you any other way. You're the same Neal, you're…exactly the same."
He hoped against hope he was saying the right things, as he pressed on.
"Whatever guy gets you will be a lucky man" he concluded firmly, "do you understand me Neal Caffrey?"
Neal nodded wonderingly, his heart bursting with relief.
It was done.
Peter knew.
Soon, El would know.
…it was done.
"Come here" Peter instructed quietly, and the young man willingly allowed himself to be drawn into another tight hug and a hair ruffle.
"I know it's hard, but try not to keep things like that from me son, I can't help if I don't know, yes?"
The thick hair tickled his chin as the young reforming con nodded.
Releasing him with one last tousle of his hair, Peter grinned at him proudly.
"So anyone I should know about?" he queried, his eyes twinkling.
Laughing the first real laugh he'd had in a long time, Neal quickly shook his head before sobering.
"No…" he admitted, "there was…but when he found about my uhh…restrictions and my anklet…he ran for the hills."
Peter suppressed a growl at this unknown joker's attitude and reached out, carding a hand through his charges hair once again.
Neal's conference room outburst made all the more sense to him now.
"His loss kid…it's his loss."
Knowing that the elder man meant every word, the last of Neal's qualms of non acceptance melted away. He should never have had them in the first place.
Suddenly Peter's cell shrieked in his pocket, fishing it out wearily the agent quickly switched off the message, but not before Neal caught a peak.
Of an extremely irate message from Hughes.
The magnitude of his actions forgotten in the midst of revelations suddenly came swooping down on him, and he eyed the agent nervously.
"How much trouble am I in?" he squeaked, "How much trouble are you in?"
Peter stared quietly for a moment, assessing the day's events.
There had clearly been severely mitigating circumstances in Neal's abrupt departure, but at the same time, his behaviour remained inexcusable.
It had placed him in danger, both on the streets and of having his deal revoked. If there was one thing the kid knew he wouldn't tolerate, no matter what, it was that.
"Well…let's just say you're in for a very sore butt from me and I'm in for a sore ear from Hughes" he replied evenly, feeling familiar weariness set in upon him.
Neal squawked.
"I didn't mean for you to get in trouble because of me" he protested earnestly, "obviously you didn't call the Marshalls in…god Peter, Hughes is going to kill you."
The elder man raised a halting hand.
"I'll deal with Hughes" he said firmly, "I made my decision, and I bear the responsibility of it. Now, your decisions need discussing, am I right?"
Sensing the change in Peter's tone, Neal groaned.
Any hopes that he was going save his behind went flying out the window, not that he really wanted to. The guilt of his actions was getting to him, and the trouble the man beside him was in because of him made him writhe in regret.
"I'm sorry" he mumbled miserably, looking down at his knees, "I shouldn't have done it."
Peter raised a brow.
"You think Neal? You could be sitting in jail now, or you could be beaten to a bloody pulp in the freaking projects, your silver tongue won't get you out of everything you know."
He paused for breath.
"I get that you were upset. I get that you were dealing with something you hadn't deal with before. I get that you were frustrated but you do not get to do things like this Neal! Damnit, how many times have I had to ream you for that kind of carry on?"
Neal dropped a shamefaced expression to his knees and sighed sadly.
"A lot" he conceded, before adding a beseeching "I won't do anything like that again."
It was Peter's turn to sigh.
"I've heard that one before, right?"
A glum nod answered him.
"Neal…you can't keep doing things like this. I can't always get you out of your scrapes. What if my informant hadn't rang me to tell me where you were? How the hell would I have found you?"
The kid stared at him.
…with a look of hurt.
"You have an informant other than me?" he asked in wounded tone.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Peter had to bite down the chuckle that threatened to escape him.
"You stopped being just an informant a long time ago kid and you damn well know it" he sighed in feigned exasperation.
The smug look that shone back at him caused his eyes to twitch with the urge to roll.
"Well?" he prompted, "what do you think would have happened?"
The morose expression tugged his heartstrings, but he held firm.
"I probably would have had my face smashed in" Neal admitted quietly, cursing his asinine bout of adolescence once more.
"Probably indeed" the agent agreed wryly.
Neal ducked a guilty head downwards and Peter sighed.
"Ok. Out with it, you know what I want to hear."
The pleading in the blue eyes was outwardly lost on him, but inwardly he fought to resist the urge to tell the kid to hit the hay and get some sleep before dinner.
"Peter…" the younger man groaned, "please…I…."
A hand was held up.
"Right this minute please."
Biting his lip miserably, the internal battle of self preservation and obedience raged and as usual, obedience won.
Taking in a gulping of air, he opened his mouth.
"I mouthed off to you in the office, I cut my anklet placing my deal in jeopardy and I put myself in danger as a result."
He paused and gulped down some more oxygen.
"…and I withheld information from you" he concluded sadly.
Peter nodded slowly, and once again resisted the urge to instantly forgive and forget.
"Three out of four" he murmured.
Neal looked at him in confusion.
"Yes you're in trouble for mouthing off to me, yes you're definitely in trouble for cutting your anklet and yes you're absolutely in trouble for putting yourself in danger, but…"
He ran a hand through his hair.
"Usually you would be in trouble for keeping important things from me, but no, not this. You had the right to tell me that when you were good and ready, and…yeah, I wish that you would have told me when you first registered those feelings so we could have avoided this, that was your truth to tell when you were good and ready."
Neal gaped.
"Peter" he spluttered in surprise, "since when are you so… loquacious?"
The older of the two blinked.
"Huh?"
Grinning, Neal waved an airy hand, "never mind, continue with the lecture."
"Thanks for the permission" Peter ground out dryly, causing Neal to grin even more.
He couldn't help it. Sure, he was in trouble right now, and sure sitting was going to be an uncomfortable endeavour for a while, but he was still as accepted as he'd always been.
It was like the weight of the world had been jerked off of his shoulders.
"So" Peter carried on, "you know exactly why you're in trouble?"
Neal nodded.
"…and you know in addition to the warm tail you're about to get, you're pretty much looking at your cell for the next month?"
The next nod was much, much slower.
"Neal."
The head bobbed up and down, albeit miserably.
Satisfied, Peter sighed inwardly. Today should have been a great day, with Neal getting what he had off of his chest, but there was no way his behaviour was going to fly.
"Stand up bud" he instructed firmly but with a definable sadness, as he unbuttoned the cufflinks of his right sleeve and began rolling it up to his elbow.
Up till now, the theoretical spanking that was coming his way had been down on the list of Neal's woes, now however…it was right up there.
"Now Neal" Peter repeated sternly, seeing that the kid had made no effort to move.
Reluctantly, the young man stood and made his way to the bed edge perch where the agent sat.
"You understand why this has to happen?"
Nodding glumly, Neal murmured the requisite "yes Peter."
Seeing no point in putting off the inevitable, the weary agent reached out and took a gentle grasp of the boy's wrist and pulled him down over his knee in a swift movement, born of much familiarity.
Wrapping a firm hand around his ward's waist, he lifted his right knee slightly and tucked him into his chest.
"I never want to have to punish you for this reason again, do you understand me?"
Burying his head into the bedspread, Neal jerked his head up and down in sheer misery.
Satisfied, Peter began the unpleasant task of communicating just how very unacceptable today's stunt had been.
In the quiet confines of the room, the first brisk swat seemed to echo, before being muted by another and another, and soon a regular rhythm of swats began to land upon the upturned rear. Neal hissed despite himself as the thin cotton pants did nothing to protect him from the leathery gate of Peter's maddeningly wide hand.
Knowing he was where he was for the long haul, he buried his face deeper into the bedclothes and did his best to stay still.
The pain in his backside was mounting with every second, and it was abundantly clear that Peter wasn't holding back.
This was made all the more clear by the very early loss of his pants and shorts, as the older man bared his butt in one successive tug.
Groaning, Neal couldn't help but yelp loudly as the first hard swat landed on his now completely unprotected rear end, quickly followed by another.
…and so it went on, Peter reluctantly dishing out firm swats on a growingly red posterior, and Neal reluctantly breaking from his stoic front, beginning to whimper and squirm across the agents knee.
It wasn't long before the first of many tears sprang up in the young man's eyes, the emotional turmoil accompanied with the stinging in his rear getting the best of him.
Whilst he hated hearing Neal cry, loathed being the one to make him cry, Peter breathed a small sight of relief when he heard the first sob escape the boy.
…they were nearly there.
Feeling like a monster, he tipped his charge forwards slightly and began to redden the tender curve of his upper thighs with a flurry of well placed swats, and it was then that the kid went completely limp over his knee and sobbed quietly.
They were done.
Dishing out one swat to each ruby red cheek, Peter brought the spanking to an end with a sigh of relief.
Immediately replacing the hand that had punished with the hand that now comforted, he ran gentle circles over the small of Neal's back and murmured to him quietly. They stayed in that position for quite a while, the kid getting his breathing back to normal.
Hating himself a little more with every sniffle he heard, Peter continued to rub Neal's back gently and assure him he was forgiven.
The last tear fell from the blue eyes and the last sniffle was sniffed not long after, and the boy heaved himself up. As per his usual form, Peter busied himself with pulling his sleeve back down as Neal tugged his cotton ends back up with a loud hiss.
Turning back around, Peter tucked the younger mans chin up with a careful thumb.
"Do me a favour?"
Neal nodded instantly, hissing a little more as any movement upset his scorched backside.
"Please don't make me do that again for a long time…ok?"
Staring back with watery blue eyes, the reforming con wondered for the millionth time was there no end to Peter's patience.
"I won't" he agreed sincerely, having absolutely no desire to have anything close to the heat in his backside repeat itself.
Smiling his broad genuine smile, Peter nodded happily.
"Good lad. Now, do I have to wait till next week to get my hug…?"
Rolling his eyes, the kid slowly, in deference to his butt, melted into Peter's open arms and sighed a sigh of complete relief.
Holding the young man to him tightly, Peter thanked whatever higher power there was that the day had turned alright after all.
Releasing him after a few moments, he ran an eye over his slim frame.
"I need you to eat before El comes home and murders me" he suddenly muttered anxiously, carefully steering his ward out of the room, careful not to rush him so as not to cause any undue flare up.
Cackling with laughter Neal allowed himself to be guided, and threw a hopeful "can I put some cream on…?"
The snorted "not a chance, I didn't work that hard to put a sting there for you to take it away with your fancy potions" was not unexpected, but the dramatic sigh was obligatory.
Walking into the kitchen, Peter took pity on him and grabbed a fluffy cushion from El's window seat collection.
"Here, sit on that" he offered, and rooted in the fridge as Neal placed the proffered cushion on a stool and sat with a yelp.
"Always with the dramatics" Peter muttered into the tuna he was examining, as a squirming Neal rolled his eyes behind his back.
"Those eyes are going to get you into bother" the agent murmured absently, as he rooted for bread rolls.
The blue eyes immediately stilled.
Ten or so minutes later, and both men were munching on tuna rolls and soup, chatting amiably.
"So" Peter began , swallowing a mouthful of bread, "you do realise I expect you to bring whoever you meet here for dinner, if and when things get serious, right?"
Neal choked on his soup.
Spluttering through his laughter, he shook his head.
"God, Peter, you're so old fashioned."
Standing up and clearing away his dishes, the older man shook his head defensively.
"What? I just want to meet the guy, is that so bad?"
Neal looked at him knowingly.
"Meet him, or use whatever utensils he eats with to run a background check?"
Throwing his bowl into the dishwasher, Peter pretended to look affronted.
"You think I would do that?"
Without hesitation, Neal nodded.
"Absolutely."
Crossing the room to clear away the kid's now empty dishes, Peter laughed as he reached around him to grab his glass.
"Good, because you're damn right I would."
….
TBC
….
A/N: Ok, so, jeesh that was way longer than I intended but I just got totally carried away. Sort of nervous about posting this one as it's obviously not canon compliant, but a nod to Matt Bomer's sexuality! I also wanted to test the waters about a big, non con/screw up revelation between the two and see how it would play out. I'm moderately happy with how it turned out, so please let me know what you guys thought.