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The morning sun slanting across his bed from the skylight was what usually woke Neal up in the morning. But not today. Today it was raining, so the beam of sunlight that normally infringed on his slumber wasn’t searing his eyelids. Today, the slight jostling of the bed as Clint rose before him was what did it.
“Where are you going?” Neal asked, catching his boyfriend by the wrist as he was about to leave the bed. Clint was rarely up before Neal, least of all on a cool and rainy morning when the warmth of the bed was too inviting.
“I told you last night, I have an appointment with Bonnie Breit today. She could only fit me in at 7:45.”
“Oh yeah, the Apartment Whisperer.” Bonnie had a well-deserved reputation for sussing out the best deals in the best neighborhoods, for a very specific clientele. As Diana’s ex’s current girlfriend, she was willing to take Clinton on as a friend of the family; it was certainly not his budget, nor his stunning good looks that recommended him. “Why are you moving again?”
“Because I hate that place. There’s no light. Not like this place.” He looked around Neal’s space with envy – even on this grey and drizzly Thursday, it was awash in natural light. “I want something better. I want….light.”
Neal certainly understood. He secretly hated Clint's apartment, even if the bed was bigger than his, and more comfortable. “Well, would you ever consider moving in here?” He almost couldn’t believe he’d said it – though they’d been dating nearly a year, they tended to avoid conversations about progressing things. With the Agent-CI dynamic they had to maintain at work, it was just easier that way.
“I don’t…we’re not having this conversation.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s early and you’re not awake yet, and I’m going to say yes if only to get out of that hole in the ground. And it’s a big step, Neal.”
“It’s not that early, and I’m fully awake, and my head is clear. Move in with me, Clint. I want you to.”
Clinton leaned over Neal, ran a hand through his hair and kissed him deeply. “I’ll think about it. And you should too. I appreciate the offer, but it’s a big step for both of us. We need to talk about it more. And in the meantime, I’ve got an appointment to keep.”
“Well, at least let me help with your shower,” Neal said, a mischievous grin on his face.
Clint pressed his forehead against Neal’s. “As tempting as that is, it would only make me late. I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
Neal pretended to pout, but secretly loved watching the rise and fall of Clint's bare buttocks as he walked across the apartment towards the bathroom. He turned over on his stomach and hugged his pillow, and began to think about the prospect of Clint moving in.
It had been a while since he lived with anyone – that one happy week with Sara didn’t really count. He was certainly used to having his space to himself, but he wasn’t a loner by choice, not really. The months living with Kate had been the happiest of his life, and he wanted to feel that way again. The easy familiarity, the companionship, and most importantly, the comfort of having someone to come home to – now that he was thinking about it, he found he had a craving for it.
But it had been so long since he’d let anyone get this close to him – he hadn’t let Sara in as much as he had Clint. What did that mean? Sara in his life had certainly been less complicated; like him, she operated within a certain moral grey area and so was less likely to ask the wrong questions. But also like him, she couldn’t resist the urge to snoop on Neal just a little bit, and it had contributed to the end of their relationship.
Clint was an FBI agent – could he leave the badge at the door, and not question Neal’s motivations and activities? Neal had effectively gone straight, but it didn’t mean that many of the people in his life had too. There was no telling what trouble might knock on his door on any given day of the week. He trusted Clint, and he knew Clint trusted him, but there could come a day when his professional and legal obligations could conflict with Neal’s personal ones, and Neal dreaded that possibility like nothing else.
Could he trust himself, even, to respect Clint’s boundaries? He’d proven he couldn’t when he’d committed the ultimate act of betrayal and broken into Peter’s home. The memory of that and the events that followed still shamed him, and if he was truthful with himself, he was afraid of finding himself in the same position again.
He didn’t want his old life – it had been a long time since he had, and if it ever came down to him having to choose, he knew what it would be without question. He simply wanted this life too much and he wanted Clint in it.
Clint padded through the hall door, fresh from his shower and clad in the robe Neal had gotten him for Christmas. He headed for the coffee maker and began to make a pot. “Whatcha doing still in bed?” he teased Neal.
“Thinking, like I promised.”
Clint's eyes slanted away and he busied himself with the coffee filters. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Come to any conclusions?”
“We’ll talk later. I’m hitting the shower.”
----
Clinton Jones settled into the backseat of the taxi, relaxing for the first time since waking that morning. Bonnie Breit was a tiny dynamo of a woman, who talked a mile a minute and seemed to have a hundred ideas at once for getting him into his dream apartment. He was sure none of them would be in his price range. But he couldn’t lay the tension in his shoulders or the headache pounding his brain entirely at her door. The conversation with Neal that morning had also put him on edge.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to move in with Neal, take their relationship to the next level; it was that he wanted it too much and was afraid of what that meant. His love for Neal was such that the realization of it sometimes took his breath away. It was like Neal was a drug to which he was hopelessly addicted, and he’d overdose if he could. These kinds of thoughts scared him, and he thought that sharing them with Neal would scare him too.
So, as hard as it could sometimes be, he allowed his pragmatic side to rule his heart, and he tried to keep his distance when he thought it prudent, only staying with Neal one or two nights a week, not wanting to rush things. But Neal bringing up the idea of them moving in together was significant, and he took it as a sign that their relationship was important to him as well, and that maybe Neal needed Clint as much.
Clint fingered the scar on the left side of his neck and was reminded of another stark reality – the repercussions if his relationship with Neal were to become public knowledge within the Bureau. Everyone on the team knew, of course – after he’d taken that bullet six months ago, it was the biggest open secret going. But to his knowledge, Hughes and Bancroft were still in the dark, and it would be prudent to keep them that way.
The taxi pulled up outside Federal Plaza and he almost didn’t notice. As he rode the elevator up, he decided that the whole matter was too complicated to decide now and with the information he had. If Neal still wanted to do this, he’d be willing to give it a go – but there would have to be some ground rules to keep things discreet at work. They’d have to work harder at it now more than ever, at least until Neal’s sentence was up in eighteen months. Thoughts of the possibility of being together with Neal every day almost made him giddy, but he quickly quashed them. There was a lot to work through.
Neal was sitting in Peter’s office when he arrived, so he grabbed a coffee and started going through his emails. Twenty minutes later, Neal trotted down the steps and paused by Clint’s desk on his way to his own. “Morning, Jones.”
“Morning, Caffrey.”
“A little late today?” Neal’s eyes twinkled; he actually found it fun to pretend they weren’t close.
“Had an appointment uptown. You free for lunch later?”
“I could find time,” Neal said thoughtfully, heading to his own desk.
“Great.”
There was a pleasant popping sound as a Skype message appeared on Clinton's monitor.
Reese Hughes: Agent Jones, come on up and see me when you have a moment.
Clint could feel a rush of blood to his face – any interaction with Hughes always felt like being called to the principal’s office. He typed back: Of course, sir. I’m free now if you are.
Reese Hughes: Excellent. I’m on a call – come up in twenty minutes.
Another Skype popped up. Neal Caffrey: You’ve got The Face on. What’s wrong?
The Old Man wants to see me.
Neal Caffrey: Well, that has to be good, right? You’ve been busting your ass on that Boring Financial Services case.
That’s Bearing Financial Services, and yes, maybe that’s it.
Neal Caffrey:Don’t sweat it, C.J.
Quit calling me C.J.
Neal Caffrey:Will do.
Neal Caffrey: C.J. ;-P
Clint shook his head with a smile and shut down the Skype chat window. Twenty minutes later, he grabbed his notebook and headed to Hughes’ office.
“Agent Jones,” Hughes said with what passed for a warm smile from him, but to the uninitiated looked like a grimace. “Please have a seat.” He pulled out Jones’ jacket. “Clinton, it should come as no surprise to you that your stellar work within the division has not gone unnoticed.”
Clint was, indeed, surprised and very pleased to be hearing it, but made a non-committal grunt just the same.
“The success and effectiveness of the overall White Collar team here in New York has also been an undeniable jewel in our crown, and the Director has taken notice.”
“Well, that’s very good to hear, sir.”
“So when the Director asked me for a recommendation for an agent to head up a new team in Boston, I immediately thought of you. Agent Burke agrees that you would be a perfect fit, so if you’re interested, the job is yours.”
“Excuse me, sir?” To say Clint was shocked by this development would be to understate it. He almost couldn’t believe his ears.
“It’s a huge promotion, and you’ll be able to build your own team. What do you say?”
----
Neal glanced up as Clint headed down the stairs from his meeting with Hughes. He looked a bit shell-shocked, which sent a cold knife of dread though Neal’s heart. This was it – the bosses had found out about their relationship and it was all over – Clint was being busted down to file clerk and Neal would be headed back to prison for the remainder of his sentence. He watched him pass his own desk by and head straight for Neal’s.
“Can you come get a coffee with me?”
“Clint, what is it?”
“Not here.”
Neal could feel the blood draining from his own face as he followed Clint to the double doors and into the hall. Clint didn’t look at him until the elevator arrived, but there were people on it and they took up spaces at either side of the car. Neal’s mouth was suddenly dry and his heart was hammering in his chest as the elevator made its way to the lobby, and by the time they arrived, he was practically vibrating from nervousness.
Clint led him to the small coffee shop just off the main lobby and to a tiny, isolated table in the back where he sat down heavily, still unable to really look at Neal.
“Clint, you’re kind of scaring the shit out of me here,” he began.
“They offered me a job in Boston,” Clint blurted before Neal could finish.
“What?”
“They’re starting a White Collar team up there and they want me to head it up. It’s a big promotion. They want me for it. They want me.”
“Oh my God, Clint, that’s terrific. That’s huge, that’s…” Neal’s voice trailed off as he realized the impact of this development on their lives.
“I don’t know if I want it,” Clint said quietly.
“What?”
“I don’t want it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t…”
“Yes. You. Do. This is what you’ve been working for your whole life, Clint. This is amazing, it’s fantastic. I’d hug you if this place weren’t crawling with FBI agents.”
Clint smiled, but his eyes were sad. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What would it do to our relationship? We’ve got a good thing going. I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you.”
Neal lowered his voice and leaned across the table, an earnest expression in his eyes. “I love you, Clint, but I will not be the one who comes between you and your career.”
“Neal.”
“No, listen to me. If you don’t take this job, I think you'll regret it. Maybe not now, but some day.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m not. Please listen to me, you may not get this chance again, and I won’t stand in the way of that, I can’t.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m taking myself out of the equation.”
Clinton was incredulous. “You would break up with me?”
“Ask me tomorrow, and I might have another answer, but right now, yes. I would break up with you before I’d watch you throw your career away for me.”
“Jesus, Neal.” Clint stood and stared at him, too shocked to say anything more.
Neal held his gaze until he turned to leave, and as he walked away, Neal hoped he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.
----
It was several hours later and Neal stood at the windows in his apartment and watched the rain streaming down them. He took a sip from the glass of red wine he held in his hand and went over the entire conversation with Clint in his mind. He supposed he could have handled it better, but his feelings were the same. He loved him enough to let him go. He just wished it didn’t hurt so much. He wished a lot of things.
“Well, what about me?”
Neal turned his head. Clint stood in his doorway, water streaming down his face and overcoat and dripped onto the floor.
“What about what I want?“
“Clint -”
Clint crossed the space between them and stood before Neal. There were tears in his eyes. “What if I don’t want to leave you?”
Neal didn’t answer.
Clint's voice dropped down to a murmur. “What if I can’t live without you? What if I’m no good without you? What if –“
Neal stepped forward and took him into his arms, guided Clint's head against his shoulder and held onto him as a sob escaped his lips.
“You can and you will,” Neal said softly. “It’s too important.”
“You’re too important.”
“I’ll still be here.” He took Clint's face between his hands. “I’ll still be here.” He kissed him, tasted his tears and soon his own were flowing freely. “I’ll always be here.”
“I love you Neal. I love you so much.”
“I know, baby. I love you too.” They kissed again, and then held each other until they calmed down.
“I guess I have no choice but to accept the big promotion, huge raise and all expenses-paid move to another city,” Clint joked grimly, taking off his coat and heading to the fridge for a beer.
“Those bastards. You know, Boston isn’t so far away, and my parole is not that long off that we can’t at least try to make this work long distance.”
“Because long distance romances work so well.”
“Ah, but you forget something. If there’s anyone with experience keeping up a relationship through thick or thin, it’s me.”
“That’s true.” Clint took a deep breath. “We can do this.”
“I guess this nullifies the ‘let’s move in’ conversation.”
“No kidding.”
“For what it’s worth, I was serious about it.”
Clint nodded. “I know. And for what it’s worth, I would have said yes.”
----
The day of Clint's transfer came faster than either of them thought it would. Clint's new boss wanted him to start pulling the team together, and said there’d be ample time to get his affairs in order over the next few weeks. Clint couldn’t refuse.
He spent the time transitioning all his cases to Diana, so he and Neal couldn’t really go to lunch like they had been used to. Besides, Peter had caught a big antiquities smuggling case and it had kept Neal busy most nights.
Clint's train was at 4:00, and the team had taken him out for a farewell lunch. Neal had come along, of course, but they wound up sitting at opposite ends of the table. When it came time for Clint to leave, Neal was in a meeting with Peter and the representative from the Turkish government, so they didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.
He hated that he had to go, that they couldn’t see each other first, but Clint consoled himself with the fact that they had planned to “see” each other over Skype video chat every other night, and that he’d be back for a whole week the following month to deal with moving his stuff out of his apartment.
Still.
Clint settled into his seat on the Acela and pulled out his laptop. He wanted to review the jackets of the men and women his new boss had recommended for his team, get to know something about them before he interviewed them the next morning. He pulled out his ear buds and plugged them into the computer, launched iTunes and called up his favorite playlist.
At the top of the list of songs, he noticed a new entry. ***Listen to this first*** it said, and he clicked on it with his mouse.
It was Neal.
”Clint, baby, hi. It’s been a really rough couple of weeks, hasn’t it? I’m sorry that we haven’t really been able to connect. It physically hurts my heart to think of a day without you in it, though, so maybe this has been a way to ease ourselves into it?”
Clint found himself nodding in agreement. He felt the same.
Neal laughed. “Or maybe I’m full of shit. I dunno, that’s not the point of this message. The point of this message is that I wanted to tell you a few important things, because sometimes I suck at doing that.
“Clint, I’m just so, so proud of you. You will make the best Special Agent that the Boston office has ever seen, I know it. You’re going to kick so much ass people will start strapping pillows to their bottoms. You’re going to take so many names, they’ll need a whole room full of servers just to list them all.
“You’re going to do so well, and be the best, and close all your cases, and do you know why? Because I know you can. And Peter knows you can. And Diana, and Blake, and Hughes and Peggy in Accounting, and the weird guy who plays drums in the subway. We all know you will be the best thing that the Boston office has ever seen. And your close rate will rival Peter’s, and he’ll be jealous. You’re ready for this, and you’ve been ready for this. Now make it happen.”
There was a long pause, but Clint saw there were still a few more minutes left on the track. When Neal began again, his voice was thick with emotion.
”And there’s something else I need to tell you, Clint. Something important that you already know, but you need to hear it, I think, because I suspect you sometimes doubt it.
“I love you. I. Love. You. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life. I love you like breathing, and I will never stop. Please believe that, and hold it close to your heart when things get rough.
“And don’t worry about me, OK? I’ll be fine. But I won’t make that promise, so also take care of yourself.”
Neal’s voice dropped down to a whisper and he repeated his final words over and over for several minutes.
”I love you. I love you. I love you.”
And Clint answered him each time, “I love you.”
----
Thank you for your time.