Work Text:
You get set on fire one time, just one and everyone acts like it's a big deal. Like it really matters that for a few brief minutes your clothes were on fire and you were flailing to at least pretend you were human?
Well, maybe for most people that would be a terrifying concern but Clark had barely felt the flames. He'd had to pretend though because he wasn’t Superman right now, nor was he even Clark Kent. No, he was Neal Caffrey and Neal Caffrey wasn’t invulnerable to fire.
It was hard to get his arms to tremble and tears to form in his eyes on command but he did enough that maybe it was convincing after all or maybe Peter was too scared shitless after watching Neal 'burn' he neglected to properly analyse Neal's genuineness to his actions.
His shirt was ruined, blazer too, hanging in scraps that had to be discarded. Which would be fine, if he wasn't hiding his physique the best he could under tailored suits.
But again, thankfully for the most part, Peter seemed more interested in remarking how lucky he was that he didn't appear burnt after the state his clothes were in.
That was when things started going south. Now, if someone had a shirt? Something nice and white and preferably ironed, Neal would have been fine. He’d have to act shaken for a few days which he'd probably struggle with but beyond that he'd go home, watch terrible TV, call Bruce, maybe jack off in the shower at thoughts of his husband and then have a nice sleep.
But then, that was not what was offered.
Instead, as if the Universe was mocking him, Neal was offered a shirt, a blue shirt with a very familiar red and yellow logo.
"No. I can't wear that, it won't fit." Neal quickly fumbled when one of the Officers handed over the shirt.
"Sorry man, it's the only thing we could find that looked even remotely close to fitting your shoulders." The guy shrugged and gave it to Peter instead who was sitting beside him before leaving. Neal gave another little tremble because it was important to keep up appearances that he wasn't an Alien Superhero but instead a Human Con Artist.
"Neal, I know it's not your usual style but you're in shock and it's important you keep warm."
"Then let me go home." Neal grumbled.
"You know I can't do that. Not until you've been checked over by the EMT." Peter pointed over and well, they were five minutes out, Clark could hear them, one of them yelling in frustration as a driver didn't pull aside to let them pass over the sounds of the siren.
"I can't wear that." Neal repeated because what was the likelihood his identity survived this?
"Put the damn shirt on now Neal or I'll get Agent Nowoki over here." Peter quipped, threatening Neal with one of the more bulkier agents at the scene, probably someone Neal Caffrey wouldn't be able to fight off even if Clark could.
Neal shot Peter with a look of betrayal.
"Please Neal. At least just until the EMT arrives. I know keeping warm sounds silly after being on fire… but you're in shock and your blood pressure is probably low." Peter carefully spoke, handing Neal the godforsaken Superman shirt.
Neal gave one last pleading look and Peter met it was a stubborn glare.
"Shirt, on, now."
Neal sighed and prepared himself mentally for the lecture Bruce would undoubtedly give him for this and lamented the fact that even if he was allowed to go home after exposing his cover, his husband wouldn't let him back into their bed anytime soon, his stupid stubborn battitude over Clark ruining the mission. He didn't want to be banished to the sofa. It was a nice sofa and all because hello, Billionaire, but it didn't come with a Bruce.
Bruce was the most important part of sleeping.
"NEAL!"
Oh, right, he zoned out. God he missed his husband and his stupid scowl and his nice big hands and his thick- Nope.
"Sorry." Neal mumbled because now wasn’t the time to go down that path of thought. Reluctantly he grabbed the shirt and stretched it until it went over his head. He pulled both of his arms into the holes and then smoothed it down.
It was tight across his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination, muscles cleanly on show.
And the worst part was, his stupid glasses had been knocked off when he was pretending to y'know, be burning alive and were unsalvageable so his face was bare.
"Neal…."
"Yes Peter?"
"Could you care to explain why I'm looking at Superman right now instead of my CI?" Peter asked slowly. Neal grimaced and shrugged.
"Guess we look alike?" Neal tried and Peter pursed his lips, not remotely convinced.
"Neal, you don't look alike, you look identical, so how would you like to explain that?"
"Sooo, funny story."
Peter's glare only grew, his concern vanishing in place of confusion and frustration.
"I'm probably not even cleared to tell you but I'm undercover." Neal whispered and Peter only continued to stare.
"But you're Superman?" Peter asked, to double check, he wanted confirmation.
"Yeah, I am… and you can't tell anyone sorry, look I'll even do you a deal, you can meet my husband if you help me play this off as a coincidence." Neal pleaded and Peter's face flashed through several different reactions before he nodded.
"Deal but only if I can tell El." Peter countered with a raised eyebrow.
"Done." Neal quickly replied because if he had to suffer his husband's disapproving batglare at busting his undercover op in such a silly way then he was going to drag Bruce into things too.
And so, deal confirmed, Peter shucked off his jacket and handed it to Neal which he could have just done in the first place… and Neal quickly put the jacket on, even if it was a little small, wrapping it around his front to cover up the shirt.
And then the EMT pulled up, Peter's eyes drew away from Neal to the wailing vehicle.
"I'm gonna bail, sorry. I don't need the attention on why I don't have a single burn to show." Neal murmured and when Peter drew his eyes away from the ambulance and back to his friend he was gone.
"Godamnit Neal." Peter hissed to thin air. Was Neal Superman's secret identity? Probably not, Superheroes weren't silly enough to use their actual identities when undercover in the FBI, right? Well, Peter would find out soon enough anyway because he had plenty of questions he was going to wrangle out of his CI one way or another and starting with the fact he had a husband?
For now, he had to think of an excuse for wasting the emergency services time.
Thanks a lot Neal.
