Work Text:
Mozzie enters the room, his steps careful, his face pale.
Neal leads him to the table and sits him down, watching for signs of discomfort. Brings him tea from the gilded set Mozzie gave June after they bonded over kung fu films.
Neal collapses into the chair next to him. "I can't believe you were wearing a vest..."
Mozzie rolls his eyes. "Have I taught you nothing? Always come prepared, Neal."
"But you were bleeding. How could you possibly have--"
Moz salutes with his cup, speaking smugly between sips. "Strategically placed dye packs, my friend. Corn syrup, a little red, a little blue--" He pauses, considering. "You know, the trick is the thickener. Some people like flour, but that can get clumpy and ruin the effect."
Mozzie sounds fine, but he can't hide shaking hands. Neal watches, sucking in a breath.
He'd been sitting on that park bench, waiting for their contact to show, drinking tea when it had happened.
"Listen, Mozzie--"
I pulled you into this. It's my fault.
"I prefer using chocolate syrup. It makes the blood look authentic. Tastes good, too."
"Moz--"
I'm sorry.
His friend swallows, sets down the cup, points an accusing finger at him. "Just because a guy looks like he's put on some weight doesn't mean he's fat. He could be wearing a vest." He gives Neal a pointed look over the top of his thick glasses.
Neal exhales a shaky breath. "Right."
"I work out, you know." Mozzie offers the quirk of a smile.
Neal meets his eyes. Knots in his stomach untangle. "I know."
They sip in silence for a few minutes, until Neal can't hold it in any longer.
"Seriously, Moz. Dye packs?"
"It doesn't seem so stupid now, does it?"
Neal grips his arm and grins. "Welcome back, Moz."
end