"I can't believe you and El pushed this thing up two flights of stairs by yourselves." Neal gritted out, as his foot sought the first step off the landing. Just two more steps and he would be able to set Peter's solid oak desk down for a minute and get the blood circulating back through his fingers.
"Yeah, only El didn't complain so much."
"Well, El probably didn't catch a corner in the groin when someone forgot to tell her that they were going to lift this monstrosity without counting down."
"I asked you," Peter grunted when Neal found the step and stepped down, pulling the desk with him, "if you were ready."
"I was ready...ready to countdown." Neal found the last step and was trying to angle the desk so it wouldn't hit the wall or the railing as they tried to work the desk around the turn on to the second floor.
He pulled hard, when Peter stumbled slightly causing the desk to scrap a line of paint off the wall. "Damn it." Peter spat, with no real anger.
"You okay?" Neal asked worriedly, as he moved off the step and into the hallway.
"Yeah," Peter answered as he sought the next step.
"One more step and we'll sit it down for a minute, okay?" Neal's fingers were burning and his groin was still smarting from the hit it had taken. If he didn't take a break he might do some permanent damage the two areas of his body he really wanted to keep in good shape.
"Sure, sure," Peter said, finally making the last step.
"Do I need to countdown?" Peter's voice was full of false concern.
Neal smiled brightly at the grunt that escaped Peter's lips when he dropped his hold on the desk the moment Peter's feet were on solid ground.
"Nah, I'm good." He said shaking his fingers out and stepping away as Peter gently sat his side of the desk down. "Why didn't you put your office on this floor? At least you'd have the air conditioners down here."
"Oh, El wanted the guest bedroom here and the office as far away from useful as she could get it." Peter chuckled lightly. Which was new, it'd just been in the last few days that he could think or talk about El and focus on the good moments more than the bad.
"Why don't you..." Neal trailed off as he pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. "Peter, are you sleeping in here?" He asked as his eyes filled with concern.
"Um," Peter felt his cheeks heat. "Yeah, the other bedroom's too big and too much of El is in there."
"I'm sorry, Peter, it's none of my business. I just..."
"No, it's fine." Peter hurried to add as he turned his attention back to the desk, trying to change the focus of the moment.
"Hey, Peter?" Neal sounded leery.
"Yeah?" Peter really didn't want to talk about this and he hoped his tone conveyed that desire.
"Why don't you run some air and heat upstairs, maybe some plumbing? You could make the entire floor a master suite. It'd really up the value of the house." Neal said as he walked to his end of the desk, looking at Peter expectantly.
Peter smiled back, his embarrassment fading and said, "On three?"
"When are the air conditioners getting delivered?" Neal actually sounded petulant.
"Between 2 and 4, according to the store." Peter was touching up a few spots on the trim that hadn't been protected by the tape. Neal watched, perched on the window sill, trying to cool off as best he could in the stuffy room.
"So, are you going to ask me what you've been waiting to ask me since yesterday or are we going to continue this whole talking about everything, but the one thing you want to talk about thing we've got going?"
Peter looked up from his position on the floor. "I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would."
Neal crossed his arms and looked at his feet dangling below him, careful not to scuff the newly painted walls. "I don't know, Peter. I mean it's a great offer, but a contract job with the government? It just isn't where I saw myself ending up after the anklet comes off."
"Where do you see yourself?" Peter's voice was carefully neutral.
"Honestly, I don't know. I used to think I'd get back in the game. Try to find the ultimate score, but when the treasure fell into my hands..."
"You mean when Mozzie stole it." Peter interjected.
"However, it came to be in my possession. I had this realization that as amazing as it was, it wasn't worth losing my life here."
Peter lifted his head to find Neal turning his face away from him. "Well, for my part, I'm glad. I would've hated spend all my weekends for the last year and half tracking you down -again." Peter lifted himself up; trying to hide the small grunt of effort it took.
"You would have tried to find me?" Neal's voice sounded strangely emotional, well, strange for Neal. He usually played everything so cool. Like none of it ever really touched him.
"Of course, I would have. A treasure like that, you'd have had every felon in Russia or Indonesia on your heels. I would have had to track you down just to keep you from getting yourself killed."
Peter smirked at the bewildered look Neal gave him. "How did you know about Indonesia?"
Peter's smirk turned into a smile, but he offered no reply.
Neal exhaled a put-upon sigh when he saw he was not going to get an answer. "What do you think? Should I go for it?"
Peter opened his mouth and closed it back, "To be honest, I'm not sure I'm the one you should ask if you want an unbiased opinion. I want you to stay if for no other reason than..." Peter felt his heart constrict as the blood in his veins sped up, "I'd miss seeing you every day." He turned to busy himself with putting away the paint supplies, waiting for a glib reply from Neal.
"I'd miss you to, Peter." Peter heard Neal jump down from the window sill and take a few hesitant steps toward him. Peter looked up when he felt Neal beside him, his heart speeding up when he saw the look in Neal's eyes. The moment seemed to take on a heaviness that stretched on as he and Neal continued to just stand there, looking at each other.
No wonder Neal could talk himself into almost anywhere he wanted. One look in those eyes and... Peter's skin was starting to feel tight, his breathing speeding up when Neal took another step closer. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite get the words to come out.
The sound of the doorbell followed by Satch's bark gratefully broke the moment and gave Peter an excuse to step away, as he hurriedly thumped the lid down on the can of paint he'd been using. Neal started gathering up the brushes from their makeshift worktable, taking them to the new sink they'd installed last week.
"I'll go get that." Peter said as rushed to the stairs, calling to let Satch know he was coming, and feeling relieved to have an excuse put a little distance between himself and Neal. He was still pondering his reaction to Neal, even as he greeted the delivery man and sent him up the stairs with the first unit. He heard Neal speaking, his voice carrying down the stairs as greeted the driver and told him where to drop the conditioner, so they could install it later. He felt a shiver go up his spine. Neal had a nice voice too, another reason he could talk himself into almost any door.
Satch rubbed his wet nose at his dangling hand, snapping him out of his fugue. "Hey Satch, you gotta stay down here until the paint is dry, okay? Then I'll take you for the grand tour." He said as he scratched him behind his ears, still feeling strangely disjointed and uncertain as he turned to find the delivery driver coming back down for the second unit.
"Jeez, it's hot up there, Man. These'll help your paint dry too." The driver offered, as he walked out the door to his waiting truck to grab the second smaller unit. "Here," Peter said as he came through the door, "I think I can handle that one."
"Oh, sure, if that's what you want." The driver, Peter bent to look at his name tag, "Yeah, Sam. Do I need to sign anything?"
"Yeah, the pen doesn't work great but as long as I can make out the last name," Sam said, handing Peter the electric scanner and stylus he pulled from his utility belt.
"Do these things ever work?" Peter asked and he pressed trying to make his signature show up on the screen.
"For about the first week as far as I can tell. Thanks, Mr...Burke?" Sam's eyebrow shot up.
"Burke's right. Thanks for lugging the other one up there."
"No problem," Sam replied as he turned heading back to his still running and double-parked truck. Peter followed him with the door, making sure to lock it, since he and Neal would be working upstairs for at least a little longer.
He hefted the unit on one shoulder and took the rail in the other as he walked up the stairs, his head feeling a little clearer than it had.
He found Neal cutting open the box of the larger unit, kneeling over it, so that his back was to Peter as he came off the stairs. His eyes rose to meet Peter's, registering a moment of surprise, (he'd been expecting the delivery guy) followed by an instant shuttering that Peter felt in his stomach.
He sat the second unit down next the first. He thought about just letting it go, but... "Is everything alright?"
Neal looked at him, the surprise coming back a little, "Yeah, everything's fine."
"Really fine or I don't want to talk about it, fine?"
Neal smiled at him ruefully, "Everything is fine, Peter. Let's get this monster hooked up before the paint starts melting."
Peter wanted to point out that changing the subject was the exact thing people did when things were not fine, but if Neal didn't want to talk about the strange moment they'd had, Peter couldn't argue the point, since he wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it either.
Peter watched wordlessly as Neal finished cutting away the packaging from the unit. Looking up at him when he was done, a smile lighting his face as he said, "On three?"