Chapter Text
Might Have Been And Should Be
by tigriswolf
They met back at the start of Neal's career, when Tony was still at the police academy. Neal was passing through on his way to bigger and better things, and Tony was dreaming of saving the world.
Neal didn't call himself Neal then, but that's not important. They bumped into each other at the concessions stand (or, rather, Neal bumped into Tony, snagging his wallet, and then Tony bumped into Neal, taking it back) and shared smiles, chattering about the history of film and favorite actors. They walked into the theater together, sat next to each other, and proceeded to forget the world—no one was disowned here, no one was running or hiding. No one was barely eighteen, still bruised, and no one was trying to forget his father's name.
Once the movie finished, they went out for dinner. Neal used Tony's wallet to pay and Tony put down one of Neal's fives for the tip. They didn't go home together that night, or the next, and they didn't involve the real world—Neal wasn't a petty thief looking to make it big and Tony wasn't training to become a cop. They were just Neal and Tony, two guys who liked movies. They tried to out-flirt each other, to get as many numbers as possible, to tell the most believable outrageous lies.
Neal was still small then, with a slight frame and large blue eyes. A few times, he got in over his head with the drunken boyfriend of his target, and Tony would step in to deal with the situation. Neal repeatedly told him he didn't have to, but Tony had seen the fading bruises and the careful way Neal moved.
Tony himself hadn't been bruised like that in ten years, but it's not something that can ever be forgotten.
After a week, Neal said goodbye. He stood in front of Tony for a few moments, shifting nervously, before pulling Tony's head down for a shy kiss.
Over the years, they'd meet up again and go to the movies. Tony kept track of Neal's crimes and Neal followed Tony's career. Tony sent Neal care-packages in prison and Neal mailed Tony some letters. The real world never intruded as Neal spun stories of the things he wished he'd done and the places he hadn't yet been to see.
After Neal joined the FBI, leashed to New York, Tony took some time off and went to see him. They finally spoke about important things, about dreams and failures and regrets. They tried to outflirt each other, talked about big busts and hypothetical crimes. They shared history, the moments that shaped them, hurt them, angered them.
And finally, over a piece of chocolate cake, they mentioned the men who had saved them, the suit who scooped up a criminal and the self-proclaimed bastard who ordered a detective to join his agency.
Neal and Tony went home together that night, and the next, and the next, until Tony returned to Washington.
We'll always have the movies, Tony whispered into Neal's skin.
I'll slip the leash and come see you, Neal promised, lips nibbling Tony's ear. Peter'll follow.
Tony laughed and replied, Still trying to get his attention?
And you aren't? Neal asked, smirking as he pushed Tony down onto the bed.
Neal would call sometimes, with a question or observation, and Tony texted Neal all the little quips that popped into his head.
Neal told Tony once that they could have been great together, could've been unbeatable and uncatchable, the best criminals in the world.
Tony agreed, but told Neal that they should be good guys instead.
Series TBC