Eliot stepped out of the bedroom; wet hair tangled and one hand gripping tightly at the towel around his waist.
"Hardison."
The word was a warning, a question and a statement all at once. The man in question looked up and smirked, but said nothing. Eliot glared, which only made Hardison's smile widen. Stomping over to where Hardison was seated, Eliot bore down on the hacker and growled.
"Where did you put them?"
Again Hardison didn't respond, but this time Eliot caught a flash in the younger man's eyes. This wasn't just a game. Hardison was in one of those moods. Eliot knew the mood all too well. Feeling powerless was one thing, but when it was your friend, your lover, that made you feel that way…
"I'm sorry."
Hardison looked surprised by the words, but slowly his mood lifted before Eliot's eyes, and before the hitter could properly compose himself, Hardison had pulled his towel from him. Eliot didn't react; didn't reach for the towel or move at all. Hardison's eyes swept over him like a caress, and Eliot found himself looking forward to what was to come. Quickly, and with no resistance from his boyfriend, Hardison pulled Eliot down onto his lap. It wasn't common for Eliot to put himself in such a vulnerable position, and Hardison knew then that he truly was sorry for what at the time had been an offhand threat from a frustrated hitter.
"It was the kid."
Hardison didn't respond. He simple secured his arms around Eliot's naked body and waited patiently for the man to speak again.
"The look in that boy's eyes when I saw him at the hospital. He needed someone to… but I was busy with the job, and I couldn't just leave you guys to it. It weighed on me, and that's why I had such a short temper."
"You've always had a short temper, but you've got a good heart, and that's what matters." It was the first thing Hardison had said since they got home, and Eliot sagged into his partner with relief that they were at least still talking. Sometimes Hardison forgot just how insecure Eliot could be. "Did you take care of it?"
"Yeah. Marshals are keeping an eye out for me."
"Good," Hardison replied, his smirk back in full force. "Then you got no excuse for being distracted."
Eliot didn't have time to question what that meant, as Hardison began kissing along his shoulder and up towards his neck. Eliot shifted in response; wrapping one hand around the back of Hardison's neck and tilting his own head up to allow easier access. Hardison took full advantage of the move and began nipping lightly at Eliot's pulsing jugular.
"Where are my clothes, Alec?" Eliot mumbled softly.
"Forget it," Hardison replied, tugging lightly at Eliot's still damp hair. "You're not gonna need 'em."
Eliot would never admit the near-yelp that escaped his lips when, without warning, Hardison grabbed Eliot around the waist and stood up. Eliot's legs instinctively wrapped around Hardison's own waist, and Eliot couldn't stifle a groan when his nakedness came into forceful contact with Hardison's belt and jeans.
"You're wearing too much," Eliot complained with a smirk as Hardison carried him back towards the bedroom.
"Nonsense," Hardison grinned back. "This is what zippers were invented for."
End.
