A/N: This is pretty embarrassing. Please bear with me.

x x x

"God, it's so hot..." Neal tugged at his collar. He stole a glimpse at Peter, who was sitting at his dining room table perusing a case file, cool as a cucumber.

"Stop whining." He said, attention on the file. Neal rolled his eyes, deciding to explore the kitchen instead. He needed something cold, something to diminish the sensation of being slowly cooked inside an oven. He pulled open the freezer.

"Aha!" The Burke secret treasure trove - a box of cherry popsicles. Neal unwrapped one and leaned against the kitchen island.

I wonder if this could get a rise out of Peter...

He began making ungodly noises as he sucked the frozen dessert. "Mhh, so good..."

Peter, bewildered at the sudden noise, snapped his head around.

"...What are you doing?" His brows furrowed.

"What? I'm alleviating the heat." Caffrey's tongue slid over the popsicle's glossy surface, eliciting a small moan.

"Stop that, Neal. It's disturbing. And distracting."

"Mm-" A soft pop as he pulled it from his lips. "Stop what?" He batted his eyes innocently.

"Can we please just focus-"

Peter's concentration shattered as he watched Neal suddenly deep throat the popsicle. He gaped.

Gotcha.

Peter sunk his face into his hands. "You know what - I'm just going to pretend that didn't happen."

But Neal would not be ignored.

He slunk over and sat across from the other man. Locking eyes with his partner he proceeded to suck harder, head bobbing up and down. Peter looked ready to keel over from a heart attack.

Satisfied, Neal lazily yanked the ice pop from his now-cherry-red mouth. His voice was low. "Want one?" It sounded like a dare.

"I...," Peter pinched his nose. "That's enough, Neal." He seemed more like a boiled cucumber now.

"But I haven't done anything," Neal smiled, the kind that didn't reach the eyes. "Yet."

A ruby trail dripped down his fingers and to his crisp blue button-down. He'd neglected the popsicle for so long that it began melting.

"Whoops." He switched hands and one by one stuck fingers into his mouth to clean the stickiness. "What's wrong, Peter? You seem distracted." He switched hands again to unbutton his shirt.

"Wait!"

Peter's voice sounded strangled and his eyes were downcast. "I have another shirt you can wear. Just-just change upstairs." His gaze stayed squarely on the paperwork.

Neal chuckled and did as he was told. He returned after a few minutes, popsicle-free and freshly changed. Peter noticed against his will that the first few buttons were left undone, giving him a peak at Neal's smooth chest. He turned back to his papers.

"I have a feeling we aren't going to get anymore work done today. You can go home."

"So soon...? Are you sure you don't," A pause. "Need anything?" There was that look again.

"No, thank you. I'm worn out."

"Oh, I'm sure I could help with tha-"

"No! No, all I need is a good rest. Which I can't do while you're here. So go home, Neal."

"Well, if you do need anything, you know where to find me." He smiled, collecting his hat and coat.

"Right." Burke walked him to the door.

"Thanks for the treat." Neal tipped his hat and sauntered off into the street. Back inside, Peter scribbled a note for El so he wouldn't forget:

Remind me to never buy popsicles again.