Work Text:
Peter leaned over the balcony railing watching people bustling in the street, students rushing to their classes, business men making rapid calls.
El leaned her head on his back, her hands sneaking around him.
“What’s making you so gloomy at this time of the morning?” asked El as she wrapped her hand around his.
Wrapping her In an embrace she melted into, he said, not for the first time this week, "I miss Bruce." He wouldn't"t admit it but he was pouting and his wife knew it too.”
She chuckled," Well, that makes two of us. Don't worry he's coming soon, he promised"
Peter impatiently tapped his hand against the steering wheel, it's already been ten minutes since he parked, what he would give for a cup of coffee.
Neal, as if hearing his prayer walked up to the car, a paper cup in a hand, he took a long sip out of it, sighing in contentment. He turned to Neal and thanked him.
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Parking near the gate and motioning for Neal to go ahead, he quickly stopped in the nearby cafe and ordered two cups, one for himself and the other for Neal, clearly the previous cup hadn’t satisfied him.
Neal’s pleased expression when he handed him his own order made it worth it.
“I hope you’re not making me do your errands.” Sitting down, Neal put his hat on the chair next to him,
“That along with your experience on forgery, I hear we’re getting something like that tomorrow.” He wasn’t very thrilled about the prospect of that but he could take what he got.
“Nice, I hope it’s something interesting.”
“Well at least one of us is excited.” He grumbled under his breath.
Neal, the bastard, only patted him on the back with a laugh and said, “No need to be so gloomy, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
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Jason, now undercover as Neal, felt bored out of his mind. He had already done everything to keep himself busy and occupy his mind and not think about how his step-father was literally sitting right in front of him and he couldn’t even tell him without fucking up the whole operation. He had already been working with him for months but he still couldn’t get used to it.
He pulled out his notepad and a pencil, and got to doodling things at random. Half an hour passed before Peter sighed, rubbed his eyes and stood up. Jason glanced up from where he was still drawing with a question on his face. Peter just waved him off and said. “Don’t worry I just need some fresh air, go back to what you were doing.” And with that he left.
Jason, was clearly not convinced, so he did what he did best. He sneaked out.
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Peter exited the building to get to the coffee shop in front of the office, they had good coffee so that was good. He already had two cups this morning, which he was sure wasn’t good for him but really, he couldn’t care less.
He quickly got his order and made to leave when he got it. He was halfway back when he heard his name being called, he turned around trying to find the source of it, just to find a smiling Bruce waving at him. He quickly got to him and slammed himself into his chest.
Bruce let out a quiet huff before chuckling. “Well someone missed me, didn’t they?”
A muffled “Don’t ever leave for that long again” was his only reply.
He gently pried Peter’s hand from him to get a good look at his face, he looked healthy as far as he was concerned save for the dark eye bags that rivaled his, he frowned. “ Have you been sleeping enough?”
“Too much work to do, but enough about me . How are the kids?”
“The kids are fine, Jason is starting to get along with his sibling which is good…” He cut himself off, noticing Peter’s frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Jason?”
“Yeah Jason as in our son, I thought you knew?” he trailed off unsure how to continue.
“I didn’t know my dead son came back from the dead which no one told me about!” Anger was clear on Peter’s face, which was understandable since he just learned that his dead son was back and no one even spared a thought to tell him, “Seriously Bruce not everybody is the world’s greatest detective like you” he finished with a huff, feeling all the anger leave him within a rush, yes he was still mad at his husband for not telling but he rarely got to see the man lately as it is, no use wasting their together being angry, he’s deal with it later.
Although, harmless and petty pranks were enough payment. “Wait, hold on a second, does El know?!” He saw Bruce wince and knew that yes, that was the case. He groaned, massaging the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.
Next to him, Bruce saw Jason out of the corner of his eye, full in his Neal cover. Bruce motioned for him to come over. There was only a moment of hesitation when the young man looked at the groaning Peter before it left.
He squared his shoulders, put on his best ‘Neal smile’ and moved.
“Wow Peter, you didn’t tell me you personally knew Bruce Wayne.” Clearly not having heard Jason move Peter jumped, a brief look of confusion crossed his face before it left.
He opened his mouth to answer when Bruce cut him off.
“It’s okay Jason, you can cut the act.” Peter, shocked, only managed to utter “Jason, is that really you?” Jason nodded and that was the only confirmation he needed to engulf Jason in a hug, he squeezed him like his life depended on it.
After he was fully sure he was sure that that was his son, it was time to ask questions.
They had already left the coffee shop to something more private, a safehouse where Bruce had stayed over for the night.
“Why did you take the name of Neal Caffrey?”
Jason ducked his head, muttering about annoying little brothers, he straightened despite himself and said. “We found some suspicious shit”
“ Language Jason!”
“Let me finish! So we found some suspicious things in the ‘White Collar Division’ so we decided to investigate. Tim was the one who was supposed to do it but he said that he was busy so I was the next candidate. I couldn’t say no because Tim-Tam decided that this was a great time to cash in on some of his favors.” By the end of his talk, Jason looked positively annoyed.
Peter laughed and said, “Well be happy that that’s what pulled you to me.”
Peter was still pissed at his spouses for hiding this from him but he was just glad to see his son again.