THE OG AU

[conning]

[summary tk]

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[abrightboy]

Malcolm doesn't say anything because Peter leaving is ideal right now. After the door shuts behind him, he looks at Neal, reaching up to feel his forehead.

"Think you can manage some tea and some fruit?"

[conning]

“I can try,” he says, the thought making him feel a little ill. “Not a good idea to go conning on an empty stomach.”

It’s a weak joke, but it’s a joke.

[abrightboy]

“And you need your strength,” Malcolm informs him. “We’ll be clear of all of this soon. But small bites, okay? Slowly. Eat like me. Just this once.”

[conning]

That draws out a small laugh. He kisses Malcolm’s forehead, then rests his own forehead against the spot. “Just this once.”

He pauses, then tentatively asks, “Could you make it? I think I need to sit down.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm scrambles off the bed and goes to the kitchen, taking an apple out of the fridge, putting one piece of bread in the toaster, putting the kettle on.

A few minutes later, he returns with one piece of toast with honey, cut into four. One apple cut into eighths. A cup of peppermint tea. He sets the tray on the bed. “Try this.”

[conning]

Neal watches Malcolm do it all with silent affection, reaching out to take his hand as soon as the tray gets set down. He tugs Malcolm into a kiss, lifting his other hand to Malcolm's face as they break apart. "Thanks."

He keeps Malcolm's hand in his while he eats and sips on the tea. The toast sits all right. He manages four of the apple slices. The tea is cold by the time he finishes it, but the mint is still a good choice.

He's a little more alert by the time he's done, studying Malcolm's face, strangely fascinated with the fact that he almost got taken away from this man. He almost didn't get to come back to him. "What now?"

[abrightboy]

That had certainly been Malcolm’s fear.

He takes a breath.

“If you’re up to it, I call Rachel and offer to solve her mystery for her but on our terms.”

[conning]

“I am.” He’ll make himself be.

To that end, he drags himself to his feet to splash some water on his face. “She has to be going crazy by now wondering what’s happening.”

[abrightboy]

“I sure hope so,” Malcolm assures him.

He takes Neal’s phone out of his pocket and calls her, making a bet with himself how many times it will ring.

[conning]

It takes all of Rachel's willpower not to answer on the first ring. She answers after the second. "Neal?"

The edge of concern in her tone gives her away.

Neal himself, meanwhile, is limping his way over to the sink, using the collapsible IV pole and furniture for balance.

[abrightboy]

“How could it be Neal?” Malcolm asks sharply. “I thought you were smart.”

[conning]

"You didn't take him to a hospital," she says, her voice accusing. "Why didn't you take him to a hospital?"

Neal splashes water on his face, wincing a little at the feel of cold water on his skin. Everything feels oversensitive, on top of every muscle aching. He has to brace himself on the sink for a moment after the relative quickness of the motions, but he's definitely got an ear out for Malcolm's side of the conversation.

[abrightboy]

“And put him back at your mercy? He said he’d rather die,” Malcolm tells her darkly.

[conning]

A pause.

"You're lying," Rachel says, voice cold. But there's something else underneath. Something more hurt and less certain.

[abrightboy]

“What do I need to lie about? You’re the one that killed him. The FBI is looking for you now, as a person of interest in the murder of one of their assets,” Malcolm tells her. “That’s going to make moving your merchandise a little hard, even if Mozzie can crack the code. How’s that coming?”

[conning]

Neal has to sit at the kitchen table. He can't make it all the way back to the bed. It's more frightening than the pain. Goosebumps pimple over his skin as Malcolm speaks.

"You're lying," Rachel says again, louder. She stops herself, gathers herself. "Mozzie is gone. I'm guessing you had something to do with that, too."

[abrightboy]

“You really, really want me to be lying,” Malcolm acknowledges, not addressing the accusation about Mozzie. “But you made him suffer and you don’t know much about me if you think I’m too good to watch you suffer in turn. Have you already promised it to someone? What are they going to do to you if you can’t deliver?”

[conning]

He shouldn’t be turned on by this. But he is. Neal watches Malcolm with slightly wide eyes. The iron in Malcolm’s voice when he says you made him suffer makes Neal feel strangely cherished. Safe in spite of everything. He closes his eyes to keep them from filling with tears.

Rachel, meanwhile, stays quiet for a minute before sneeringly saying, “Worried about me? Sweet, but I’ll be fine. Did you just answer to be smug about letting him die?”

[abrightboy]

“What is the answer worth to you?” Malcolm asks her. “To your little puzzle.”

[conning]

A longer silence. “That depends. Are you saying you have the solution?”

[abrightboy]

“I’m not playing your little games anymore. When you want to have a serious conversation, call me back.”

Malcolm hangs up before she can answer, slipping the phone back into his pocket before stepping over to the kitchen to press a kiss to Neal’s forehead.

“Want some more tea?” he asks, threading his fingers through Neal’s hair. “You need to stay hydrated.”

[conning]

“Please,” he says, not bothering to hide the admiration on his face. “That was hot.”

[abrightboy]

“The tea?” He crinkles his nose a little. “I can set the kettle to a lower temperature,” he offers.

[conning]

Neal laughs, then coughs, then kisses Malcolm's cheek because his breath is terrible. "You."

[abrightboy]

“Oh.” He glances down and then back up with a bashful smile. “I haven’t done anything.” He turns towards the stove, then looks back at Neal and holds up a finger. “Yet.” Then he goes to make more peppermint tea.