THE OG AU

[conning]

[summary tk]

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[abrightboy]

“Well…” he laughs lightly. “When you put it that way… I am almost constantly in crisis, so I must be well practised in dealing with them by now,” he allows. He pushes the container towards Neal. “Eat some more.”

[conning]

“I don’t know if I can,” Neal admits.

[abrightboy]

"Okay," Malcolm concedes, putting them on the table. "Just don't save them for me." He studies Neal's face for a moment. "We'll have to get some tests at a hospital but Peter said he'd facilitate doing it outside of New York. I think that would be safest."

[conning]

“Keep her thinking I’m dead?” Neal smiles ironically. “Do you think she’ll be that upset by the idea?”

[abrightboy]

"Keep control of the situation. She needs you. Whatever the window leads to, she probably already has a buyer. She has deadlines. She can't decode it. Mozzie is gone." He shrugs. "She needs you. You and only you. And she made the mistake that may have made that impossible. And I stopped taking her calls."

[conning]

“…That’s really attractive,” Neal informs him. He can’t help it. Control, genuine control and power, has always been a turn-on for him.

Of course he doesn’t realize that, but it’s still true.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks at him.

"Is it? I'm just trying to get you out of your FBI contract and out from under her thumb."

[conning]

“It really is,” he says. “If I wasn’t recently poisoned and didn’t have cream cheese breath I would definitely be trying to make out with you right now.”

[abrightboy]

"Well," Malcolm says, unable to suppress a smile. He raises a finger. "Hold that thought, because when this is over, we're going away for a bit."

[conning]

He smiles at that. “Where are you thinking?”

[abrightboy]

“I’m thinking somewhere that’s near stuff you like, but also secluded, so we can go places but also not be disturbed. Know anywhere like that?” Malcolm asks.

[conning]

“I can think of a few places that fit.” He takes a deep breath, eyes wandering to the ceiling as he considers the countries, cities, towns he’s missed the most. “Maybe Italy to start. Italy or France.”

[abrightboy]

“Do you think Italy and France have private island rentals?” Malcolm asks, looking over at him.

[conning]

“I know they do, actually.” He takes Malcolm’s hand and lifts it to kiss his fingers. “…Help me to the bed? I want to lie down with you.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm feels his forehead one more time, then carefully pulls him to his feet, offering to take his weight if he needs it.

"I expect we'll know when Murdoch's made his call by Peter pounding on the door."

[conning]

Neal snorts quietly, leaning on Malcolm more than he’ll admit to himself. “Hopefully not for a few hours yet. The sun’s not even up.”

Once he’s in bed with IV lines untangled, Malcolm tucked in against him, Neal closes his eyes again. “Thank you,” he says softly. “For saving me.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm shakes his head, which Neal will only feel against the crook of his shoulder.

"You save me."

[conning]

Neal presses his face into Malcolm’s hair.

“When this is over,” he says, and pauses. It will be soon. It really will. One way or another. He shivers, and then winces as his arm muscles twitch. “When this is over, we’re running away together, and all we’re going to say about where we went is that it’s safe and we’ll be back when we feel like it.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm doesn’t sleep, but he stares out the window with his head on Neal’s shoulder, running everything over in his mind. It’s well past dawn when the pounding comes on Neal’s door, making him startle.

[conning]

Neal doesn't mean to sleep, but he's exhausted. When he jolts awake at the pounding, it's from a nightmare, and his muscles cramp at the sudden motion. He gasps, the sound small and pained.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm's hand splays on Neal's chest to steady and calm him. Malcolm stills. He doesn't move to open the door. If it Rachel, she can deal with not knowing whether they're home.

[conning]

He stays quiet, wide-eyes at Malcolm’s reaction.

There’s a pause, then more pounding. “Bright! Open up.”

That’s about when Peter seems to remember that Neal might be sleeping and shifts his pounding to insistent knocks.

[abrightboy]

Peter, not Rebachel. Malcolm pats Neal's chest and gets out of bed, padding over to the door and opening it a small amount, peeking at the Agent through the crack.

"Yes?"

[conning]

Peter scowls. "I got a call from one of my superiors saying that Interpol requested Neal's services for one of their cases, but they wouldn't give any details as to what that case was. The requesting agent's name is William Murdoch. I looked him up. He's the guy who was here last night with takeout."

Neal stays quiet, feeling uncomfortably like a kid whose parent is making a public scene.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm’s eyebrows go up. “He scouted us out? How wily of him. I wondered why the delivery guy asked so many questions, but as someone who gets a lot of delivery… a lot of them are just lonely and weird.”