Changing Teams, Part Four
Title: Changing Teams
Author: J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: White Collar; Friendship, pre-slash, and slash (Peter-Neal, Elizabeth approves)
Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own White Collar or the characters.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mozzie's perceptive observations cause Neal to rethink the nature of his partnership with Peter. Peter/Neal friendship, pre-slash and a bit of slash. Mild, consensual corporal discipline of an adult.
Link To Part One
~oOo~
Neal felt obliged to jump to obey Elizabeth, but he paused the game and took the controller with him. Not that Peter couldn’t switch controllers, but Neal hoped the man wouldn’t sink that low.
Elizabeth took his arm as they walked into the kitchen, only releasing him to make sure the door closed behind them. Neal raised his eyebrows at that as he leaned back against the counter.
“Ah, what’s wrong?” he asked.
She flashed him an uncertain smile. “I think--well, I think I should be asking what your intentions are with Peter.”
He gave her his most charming smile. “To stay in his good graces, of course."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “That’s why you’re flirting with him?”
“Well, it helps,” Neal admitted. “And it’s harmless--half the time I’m not even sure Peter realizes we’re flirting. He thinks of me as a kid.”
“Neal, stop playing me,” Elizabeth said softly. “You know it’s not harmless flirting . . . and you know it won’t stay innocent for long.”
Neal had a host of reassurances at his disposal, but after a long look into Elizabeth’s eyes he decided against all of them. Elizabeth deserved his honesty. Or at least as much honesty as he knew how to give.
“I’m not trying to seduce him,” he told her, making sure to meet and hold her gaze. “I’m trying--I guess I’m trying to find out where I stand with him. To see what’s possible between us. I don’t believe he’ll ever cheat on you, though. Not if he’s the man I think he is.”
She seemed to consider that. “So, you’re testing him?”
“Yeah, in part,” Neal admitted. “I have a crush on him too, though. He knows that--he just doesn’t take it seriously. I meant what I said: he thinks of me as a kid.”
Elizabeth smiled at him--a warm, genuine smile that was tinged with exasperation--and took both of his hands in her own. Or tried to take both of his hands in her own. She had to take away the Xbox controller first and set it on the counter.
“Neal,” she said, both of his hands finally in hers, “I don’t mind sharing Peter with you.”
For another long moment, Neal just stared at her. “I think I might be imagining things. I thought you just said that you don’t mind sharing Peter with me.”
“You’re not imagining things.”
Neal felt his mouth drop open. He had no idea how much time passed before he managed to close it again. “Um, when you say share--”
She squeezed his hands, still smiling. “I mean you and Peter can become involved--and yes, that means you can sleep together.”
Neal’s mouth dropped open again. He gave himself some credit though. It only took a few seconds to close it this time. But that few seconds were filled by a vision of Peter running his hands all over Neal’s body, massaging him, stroking him . . .
He gave himself a mental shake, reminding himself that he was straight. (Ok, mostly straight.) And that Peter was straight. Straight and married. (Ok, he was married to a marvelous woman who didn’t mind sharing him. And for a straight guy, he sure seemed to have a thing for Neal’s ass today.)
“Um--have you told Peter this?” Neal asked, finding his voice.
“Not yet,” Elizabeth answered, “but I will. Soon. I just--I just wanted to talk to you about my conditions first.”
Conditions. That made sense--in fact, it was the one thing that made sense in this whole crazy idea. “What kind of conditions?”
“First, you have to remember that I had him first.”
Neal grinned at her tone, which was both teasing and strict. “Yes Ma’am.”
“Second,” she continued, “you have to promise me to keep this from the FBI. I can only imagine what kind of trouble--”
“Believe me, this is none of the Bureau’s business,” Neal assured her. He could just imagine the look on Hughes’ face . . . “But that doesn’t matter,” he added, “because Peter will never agree to this.”
“He will, Neal. It may take some time, but--” she broke off, letting his hands drop, and seemed to weigh her words. “You didn’t see the two of you just now. I should have been crazy with jealousy, but you seemed so right with each other.”
Neal cupped her face with his hands. “I understand why you’re not jealous. Even if Peter--well, no matter what happens, I’m not a threat to your marriage.”
“I know,” she said, still smiling as she placed her hands over his. Then she sighed. “But even though I’m willing to share Peter with you, he won’t be willing to share you, Neal.”
Neal swallowed. “Kate. I’d have to give up Kate.”
Elizabeth nodded.
“I can’t stop looking for her. Even if--even if we were over, I can’t leave her on her own until she’s safe.”
Elizabeth stepped closer and Neal found himself putting his arms around her. She rested her head against his shoulder.
“Did you ever think,” she whispered, “that Kate might be able to take care of herself?”
The door opened just then and Peter stepped into the kitchen before Neal could answer. There was no anger or suspicion in the agent’s eyes, despite the fact that Neal was holding his wife. There was only warm concern.
“You two ok?” Peter asked.
Neal slid into a polished grin. “We’re fine--just having a moment.”
Peter’s eyes swept from one of them to the other. Neal knew he wasn’t fooled, but at length he shrugged. Apparently he decided that whatever was going on, it was best left in Elizabeth’s hands.
“Ok,” Peter said, walking over to them. “I’m going to take Satchmo for a quick walk before dinner.”
Neal broke apart from Elizabeth so that Peter could kiss his wife. But when Peter was done, Neal gave him what he hoped was an irresistible lost-puppy look. “None for me?”
That didn’t earn him a kiss; the agent reached out and tousled Neal’s hair instead. But he was smiling as he did so. Smiling and rolling his eyes, but still . . .
Elizabeth turned to Neal with a look of triumph as Peter left the kitchen, calling Satch to him. “You see?”
“Yeah, but that was fatherly,” Neal said, shaking his head, “not romantic.”
El leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry--he can’t fight it forever.”
Neal frowned, wondering if Elizabeth was fully acquainted with her husband’s willpower.
~oOo~
The Xbox occupied Peter and Neal long after dinner and long after Elizabeth had gone up to bed--but when Neal drifted off with his head on Peter’s shoulder, the agent knew it was time to call it a night. He saved the game, put down the controller and gave Neal a little shake.
“Time to go upstairs,” he said.
Neal gave an incoherent moan and snuggled up against him.
“Come on, Neal,” Peter prodded, shaking him again.
The kid shook his head. “Not yet. I’m comfortable.”
“Neal--”
“A few more minutes?”
Peter sighed. “Ok. A few more minutes.”
Neal nodded as he drew his legs up on the couch. Then he shifted until his head was almost on Peter’s lap. Ok, it was on Peter’s lap. Peter rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself from running his fingers through Neal’s hair, toying with the waves and curls. Neal all but purred.
More than a few minutes passed. It was almost half an hour before Peter shook Neal again. “Come on, Caffrey. Up on your feet.”
Neal rolled over and looked up at Peter with an angelic smile. “When Elizabeth falls asleep downstairs, you always carry her up to bed.”
“You want to be carried?”
He nodded.
Peter moved the kid’s head out of the way as he stood up. Then he reached down to pick him up--and promptly heaved him over his shoulder.
Neal laughed. “Bastard,” he said as Peter headed for the stairs.
Peter responded with several smacks to his ass. Neal managed to give him a few in return before Peter dumped him unceremoniously on the guest bed.
The kid was still laughing as he landed on his back. “If I’d been more awake, I would’ve seen that coming.”
Peter nodded as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, you’re off your game. You better get some sleep.”
“Ok. What are we up to tomorrow?”
“Staying over for the weekend?”
“Yeah. I mean, if that’s ok.”
Peter stared down at him, knowing there was no way to disguise the satisfaction and possessiveness in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s ok. Neal, why don’t you move in here?”
He hadn’t meant to say that. He shouldn’t have said it. It was healthier for the kid to have a place of his own--despite the fact that Peter wanted to keep as close an eye on him as possible.
Neal cocked his head at him. “If you had brought me home that first day instead of leaving me in that roach motel, I would be living here.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “I should have seen that coming. You’re still angry at that, huh?”
He grinned. “Not angry--but I’m not over it. I’m going to hold it over your head forever.”
“I should have brought you home,” Peter admitted, “even though I had good reasons to leave you there.”
“I know--I know. You didn’t want Elizabeth getting attached to me, since I could’ve gone straight back to prison. You didn’t want to get more attached to me than you already were. And you didn’t think it was appropriate . . .”
“Enough,” Peter said, giving him a look. “If it’s any consolation, I had to steel myself to tell you to cowboy up when I left you there. And those puppy-dog eyes of yours haunted me all the way home.”
Neal was still smiling--apparently he wasn’t too traumatized by the couple of hours he had spent in that motel. He pushed himself up to a seated position and crossed his legs.
“I’d like to live here,” he said. “Most of the time. I’ll keep my place at June’s though, at least for now. That way we can have some space when I infuriate you.”
“And vice-versa,” Peter said, nodding.
“But if this works out, I’ll see if June will let Mozzie have my rooms. That way I can still retreat there when necessary.” Neal paused, considering. “Of course, you might need this room for a child eventually,” he continued, his voice cautious.
“From your mouth to God’s ear,” Peter returned. “There’s still another bedroom, so we’re ok even if Elizabeth and I conceive or adopt or--well, whatever.”
“Right. But you won’t be satisfied with just one kid.”
Peter shrugged. “The basement is finished. We could turn that into a real apartment for you. As the oldest kid, you deserve the most space,” he teased.
Neal grinned, but Peter caught a flash of something in his eyes--some emotion that Peter couldn’t quite identify. “Is that how you think of me?” he asked. “As your kid?”
“Sometimes.”
Neal raised his eyebrows. “And other times? What else am I? Your property?”
He shrugged. “For four years--anything more will be voluntary on your part. I thought you were ok with that?”
“I am. More than ok. I like my leash . . . and my owner.”
The last time Neal raised this subject--was it only last night?--he had managed to make it sound entirely innocent. This time he didn’t bother. Those blue eyes of his were brimming with suggestions of just what Peter’s ownership should entail . . . and Peter couldn’t stop himself from imagining the possibilities.
“Neal,” he began, his voice tight.
But Neal interrupted him. “Never mind me. It’s just that--well, for a father figure, you certainly enjoy flirting with me.”
Peter smiled at that, knowing he was caught. “Yeah--too much. It must be those blue eyes. But it can’t go further than that. And I’ll be more careful in the future.”
“Do you--do you want to rescind your invitation? About me moving in, I mean?”
“Oh no. I want to keep as close an eye on you as possible.”
“Good. I want to live here. And don’t worry," he added. "I’ll behave. I can play the part of your son, if you’re sure that’s all you want me to be.”
Peter rolled his eyes. He couldn’t imagine getting into a twisted conversation like this with anyone else in the world. No one but this blue-eyed conman could tie him into knots like this. Even Elizabeth never had; they had always known where they stood with each other.
“It can’t be anything more, Neal,” he managed. “I’m a married man. I love my wife. I’m not about to have something on the side with you.”
“What if Elizabeth gave you permission?”
For a long moment, Peter just stared at the kid, wondering if he had heard him right. But there was no mistake.
“It wouldn’t matter, Neal," he said at last. "That’s not the way things work.”
Neal cocked his head. “I see. It’s against the rules, huh? The rules you tried to explain to me when you got your first look at June’s.” He paused to smile. “You were so angry. And so jealous. You said you couldn’t live in a place like June’s because your salary equaled certain things in the real world. Anything beyond that apparently breaks the rules.”
“I was angry because living in a place like June’s is the sort of thing that gets you in trouble!” Peter retorted. “It’s these something for nothing schemes that--”
“You can stop now. I remember the rest of the lecture.”
Peter bit back a retort. “Did Elizabeth give you permission?” he asked instead. “Is that what started this conversation?”
Peter knew his wife and just how open-minded she could be. Too open-minded--a flaw she shared with Neal. No wonder the two of them got on so well.
The kid had the grace to look chagrinned. “Yeah,” he admitted. “But before you say anything, let me explain something.”
Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on.”
“You’re right about me,” Neal said softly. “I’m always expecting something for nothing. I think I’m entitled to everything I want, whether I work for it or not. But you’re just as bad--only in the opposite direction.”
He took a deep breath before continuing. “Peter, you expect too little. You live according to some blue-collar rules that say if you work hard you’ll end up with a nice wife, a couple of kids and a house with a white-picket fence. And you don't think you're entitled to anything more. In fact, you think it’s wrong to want anything more--or anything different.”
He paused again, this time to smile. “That’s all good, Peter. The wife, the kids, the picket fence . . . But you make your world too small. There’s no reason you can’t have room for me.”
“There is room for you,” Peter said slowly. “You’re part of this family, Neal.”
“Yeah, as your son or your little brother or something equally innocuous. I get it.” He sighed and shook his head. “Ok, Peter. I said I would behave and I will. If you want me to be anything more than a kid or a kid brother, you’ll have to make the next move.”
“Neal--”
“Don’t worry; I’m not holding my breath.” He swallowed and then gave Peter a pleading look. “But you’re not angry with Elizabeth, are you?”
“That’s between me and El,” Peter answered, standing up. “But don’t worry--you’re not a home wrecker. Now get some sleep.”
“Ok,” he said, looking relieved. But then that relieved look turned sly. “Can I have a kiss goodnight, Daddy?”
Peter glared at him. “Your good behavior lasted for all of thirty seconds.”
“That might be a record for me,” Neal said, looking impressed with himself.
Peter kept glaring.
The kid painted a contrite expression on his face. “Ok. That was uncalled for--I’ll admit that. You should spank me . . . for real this time.”
Great. Now Peter would be going to bed with a vision of his hand on Neal’s bare ass. He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering why it hadn’t all turned gray after dealing with Neal Caffrey for so long. “You’re determined to make my life a living hell, aren’t you?”
Neal grinned up at him. “Only until you come to your senses.”
Link To Part Five