Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage.
Eliot knows that his team is convinced that he's the most heterosexual guy on the planet, and, yeah, that's what he wants them to think. Being a retrieval specialist is 80% badassery and 20% image. He's had the former down since he was in middle school; the latter took a little more time. He had to teach himself that look—Tara knew the one, the one that made him look like he was going to go berserk—by glaring at himself in a mirror for days on end. He practiced a confident, dangerous stride that warned people to back off. And he pretty much exclusively dated women.
The truth is, he could go both ways. He's always been satisfied with women—wouldn't have cared so much about his image if sustaining it made him truly miserable—but there have been a few times when he's wished that he could overcome his self-made walls to approach a guy. He wonders if it says something about him that he's never been in love with someone enough to really burn for them, to want to throw caution to the wind and do whatever is necessary to be with them.
Until Nate Ford became a permanent fixture in his life, that is.
Nate is…Nate. Nate is special. Nate is Eliot's leader and, despite his initial protestations, his friend. Nate is brilliant. Nate is compassionate. Nate is an honest man. Nate is broken.
Eliot doesn't want to fix him. The Nate he knew before, the one who hunted him, was a better man, in some ways, and a happier man, in all ways, than the Nate he knows now. Nate-as-he-was was too good of a man. Eliot could never have fit into that man's life, and that is just not acceptable.
So, no, Eliot doesn't want to fix Nate. But he does want to keep anyone else from breaking him further. Nate's already gone through more than any man should have to endure, and he's nearing the point of no return; it's Eliot's job to make sure that line never gets crossed. If that means protecting Nate from Sterling, from the world, from the booze, even from Sophie, Eliot will do it. He'll have Nate's back until the end of the world.
If he thought there was any real chance that Nate would reciprocate, Eliot would lay his heart at his feet. He would tell Nate that he can't imagine his life without Nate in it; that his first thought in the morning is to wonder whether Nate made it through the night without nightmares; that he would walk through a hail of bullets if it meant protecting Nate from a broken bone.
He would tell Nate that image is important in his line of work, but work is not the most important thing in his life.
It's possible that Nate would respond favorably. He knows the man pretty well, but Nate can still surprise him. He knows that Nate trusts him the most, out of anyone on the team. Relies on him the most in some ways, too—though Eliot has competition there with Sophie. He's seen the files Nate has hidden in the safe in his room (thank you, Parker, for those safe-cracking lessons) and knows that Nate has about a hundred and one contingency plans laid away for if any of Eliot's old enemies ever pop up. Nate's never tried to hide the fact that he considers Eliot family, and that's a pretty select group to begin with.
So, yeah, there's a chance. A chance he could tell Nate and Nate would admit that he's been harboring the same feelings and they would spend the rest of their lives finding ways of making each other happy.
There's a chance, but it's too small.
Eliot trusts Nate with so many things he'd never trust to anyone else. His team. His past. On occasion, his money. Sometimes he even trusts Nate with Nate's own life.
But he can't trust Nate with his heart.