Work Text:
Neal came into Peter’s office on Monday, with two cups of coffee. Peter started to reach for his, then stopped and put his arm down, “thanks, Neal. I’m asleep sitting up, I really appreciate it.”
He took the cup with his left hand. Neal nodded, “well, mortgage fraud waits for no nap.”
Peter laughed, and sipped his coffee.
-
Neal waited by Peter’s car, impatient. The other man was usually on time, and he had been very clear that today was important. And yet he wasn’t here.
Neal’s phone rang, it was Peter.
“Hey, I’m here, where are you?” asked Neal.
“Sorry, I should have told you, I was gonna take a cab. Meet me at the street level?”
Neal was not going to complain about taking a cab, rather than being terrified by Peter’s driving, so he just said, “see you in a few.”
Peter hated taking cabs, though. And this would be the second time this week.
-
Neal and Peter walked to the elevator at the end of the day. Peter was talking about baseball, Neal was only half paying attention to the words. Peter's voice sounded tight, and stressed, even though he was happy about whatever team was winning.
Neal pressed the elevator button. The doors opened, they walked in. Peter hiked his briefcase strap up on his shoulder, as Neal reached for the button for the parking garage.
Neal did not miss the sharp inhale, the way Peter's shoulders stiffened, when the weight of the strap came back down. Peter tried to be casual, as he started to lift the strap back up with shaking fingers.
Neal reached over, and helped gingerly take the weight off Peter, straightening the strap out, and handing it back to Peter. Peter switched the briefcase to the other shoulder, and said nothing.
Neal watched him like a hawk the whole rest of the way, but Peter gave no other indications of what was going on. He also refused to meet Neal's eyes.
-
Neal stood back, as Jones, Diana, and Peter tried to take down the naked man running around the house. He was the owner of the mansion, Neal had had a very unobstructed view to identify him him when they arrived. He was just…definitely intoxicated. He had almost fallen from an upper level balcony, so they had had to drag him away, and now he was taking exception to that. Unfortunately, he currently also seemed to possess superhuman strength.
Peter suddenly dropped out of the fray. He stumbled a few paces away, doubled over, clutching his right shoulder. Neal quickly went to him and towed him away from the pile of grunting and elbows and naked rich guy.
Peter could barely walk, he was staggering, halfway to passing out. Neal hurriedly guided him to a lounge chair. Peter sat on it, gasping, white in the face, holding his right shoulder with his left hand.
Neal took Peter's radio off the older man and requested medics. He let them know they would probably also need someone to take the rich guy once he was wrestled down.
Neal put the radio in his own pocket, and looked back at Peter.
Peter was watching him, sweating and trembling in pain.
"What's going on? What happened?"
Peter shrugged his left shoulder a tiny bit, "I lied to you."
Neal bit his lip. What now? How big a deal was it? Would it come between them…
"Last weekend, I didn't have a stakeout. I tried out for a community baseball team. But I irritated my old shoulder injury after two pitches…"
Neal could have laughed out loud. Those were the stakes? That was what Peter had been hiding?
"Peter, I love you, but you are an idiot."
Peter looked at him, hurt and shamed.
Neal shook his head, and put his hand on Peter's knee, "not for getting hurt. Why didn't you just take a few days off sick? I know you have plenty."
The answer became clear immediately from Peter's semi shocked expression–the possibility was clearly foreign to the other man.
"I could be at work, last I checked shoulder injuries aren't contagious…"
"Yeah, and now it's hurt worse and gonna take longer to heal. Take the next week off. Rest it and take care of yourself. The mortgage fraud will still be here on Monday."
Peter pouted, but he still hadn't taken his left hand off his shoulder. He finally met Neal's eyes, "okay, yeah."
Neal nodded, "good. I'll make sure to drop by with beer and movies, and I'll walk Satchmo and make some microwave meals so you can actually rest."
Peter seemed to be struggling between gratitude and shame. Neal squeezed Peter's knee, "come on. It'll be fun. And if I'm not working cases with you, wouldn't you rather I be there being occupied?"
Peter finally relented with a chuckle, "okay. I supposed."
Neal grinned, pointing behind Peter, "good choice. Because the medics just got here and tranqued that naked guy. If you said no I was gonna ask if they had any more on board."
Peter looked, carefully, painfully, chucking a little more. Then he turned back to Neal, "hey. I appreciate you taking care of me."
Neal stood, and kissed Peter on the top of his head, "what are partners for?"