Another round of comment_fic!! This first one is barely pre-slash, rated pg-13, prompt: "Relax, I know what I'm doing"
Eliot groaned again, another run in with hired goons and his body was aching all over. He rubbed uselessly at his left shoulder, it didn't do it any good.
"Yo," Hardison walked into the little kitchenette where Eliot had been nursing a beer trying to ease his pain, "we're all going out for a bite, you in?"
Eliot grunted a 'no.'
"You alright?" Hardison was standing next to him and Eliot dropped his hand that had still been rubbing absently at his shoulder.
"Fine," Eliot went to stand but was stopped by Hardison's hands on his shoulders. The younger man started kneading softly and the result was nearly instantaneous. Eliot let his head fall forward a little, Hardison moved the outsides of his palms over the tense muscle there.
"Damn Eliot," Hardison used the pad of his thumb to dig at particularly tough knot, "you are tense." Hardison's voice brought back exactly who was rubbing his shoulders down, all the muscles in his neck bunched up again.
Eliot shrugged his hands off his neck and stood up, "yeah I think I'll get the bite to eat with you guys."
It wasn't until they were leaving that Eliot remember how stiff and sore he felt, it was going to be a pretty sleepless night.
"Hey Eliot," Hardison ran up to him, "mind giving me a ride to my place." He almost demanded to know what had happen to the person who brought him here but Eliot refrained and just motioned for him to follow.
Eliot should have known that Hardison had a trick up his sleeve, "so you wanna come up and really get the tension out of those shoulders."
"You're not rubbing me down Hardison," Eliot used his best 'get that idea outta yer head' glare but only got a grin for his troubles.
"C'mon you're not going to get any sleep with those knots," Hardison got out of the car and for whatever reason Eliot followed.
In Hardison's loft Eliot felt even more tense than he had and Hardison looking around thoughtfully wasn't helping. "I used to actually have a table," he mumbled to himself, "but yeah. Get over here." Hardison laid a soft blanket down on his kitchen table and then put a sheet down. "Undress to your comfort level and get between the sheet," Hardison carefully folded the sheet back and then looked at Eliot before his cheeks darkened. "Uh..force of habit."
"What?" Eliot was mortified to feel his own face flushing.
"Take off your shirt and get under the sheet," unlike the Hardison of before he was a bit nervous now. Eliot quickly stripped his shirt and laid down on the table. "Be back in a minute," Hardison walked out of the room and was gone for almost five minutes. "Sorry, I had to find some oil."
Eliot groaned, "seriously Hardison if you say one more thing I'ma-" He broke off with a soft sound as Hardison applied a little bit of pressure to his shoulders, but he still couldn't..
"Relax," Hardison said softly and even without seeing his face he knew the hacker was concentrating, "I know what I'm doing."
"Yeah and how is that?" Eliot relaxed just a little bit.
"Went to school for this," Hardison kneading his palms into the tight muscle under his neck, "right after I graduated high school and was going to use my skills to be an unemployed hotshot."
"You went to school to rub people," seemed pretty ridiculous to Eliot.
Hardison laughed, "what can I say I'm good with my hands." Something unexpected happened then, as the younger man worked a particularly tough knot that had him muttering under his breath, "this must have been here since you liberated Croatia." Hardison kept on working, completely oblivious to Eliot's problem. "Feeling better already aren't we? How's the pressure, need it a little harder?"
"Yeah, uh yeah." Eliot groaned when Hardison started pushing a little deeper into his muscles. "Sure," he mustered, remembering that there was a first question there and it was partially true. Eliot was pretty sure this was the first time in a good long while he'd felt so relaxed.. Now if he could just get get rid of.. "What are you doing?"
"Trust me," Hardison's hands had dipped down to his middle back, "you don't want me to just work on your shoulders." Eliot bit off a moan, Hardison sure did know what he was doing. "You know one day I could give you the whole thing. Trust me there is nothing like an hour and a half massage."
"What the hell would you do for ninety minutes?" Eliot really didn't think Hardison could do this for that long, hell Eliot knew that he definitely couldn't.
"Seriously, with your body I'd need like two hours to work out all the kinks." Eliot had to wonder if Hardison even heard himself when he talked. "You're tensing up again," Eliot wanted to growl. Hardison would be tense to if he was sporting wood and seriously considering getting the hacker to massage him for two hours.
"Sorry," he tried to force himself to relax, again.
"If you're not comfortable man we can stop, sort of counter-productive if you can't relax." Hardison lifted his hands off Eliot's back.
It was a good idea but Eliot wasn't quite down yet, "na I'm good." The little moan that slipped through didn't embarrass him like he thought it would. "You're really good," Eliot felt like he was melting into the table when Hardison's hands dipped lower and started on his lower back. Five more minutes and Hardison was slowly making his way back up to Eliot's shoulders and he was starting to wonder if he'd actually be able to get up off the table; thankfully his predicament had went a way, but he was starting to wonder if he could even stand up.
"There you go, all done." Hardison stepped away from the table and Eliot sat up. "So.. how do you feel?"
Eliot rolled his shoulders and couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face, "actually.. amazing." He pulled his shirt back on and hoped off the table. "So when do you want to do the whole thing?"
Hardison faltered a moment and it was obvious that he hadn't expected the man to agree, "anytime I guess.."
"Good," Eliot thought about giving the boy a taste of his own medicine, get him squirming on the table but instead he decided to leave it till next time. "See you tomorrow Hardison." Oh, Eliot was going to torture Hardison, in all the good ways.
Barely there pre-slash (with goggles) gen (without), rated pg-13, prompt: one comforts as the other is weighted down by past mistakes. I wanted a little Eliot comforting, Alec being comforted!
Hardison didn't drink, it was something that Eliot liked about the younger man. He always tried to keep a clear head, even if it was a creepy-clear head. So finding Hardison nearly passed out at the conference table with an empty bottle of whiskey piques his interest and concern.
"Hey buddy," he can call Hardison a buddy, he thinks, especially when it sounds like he might be crying into his folded arms.
"G'way," Hardison grumbled trying to wipe at his eyes without lifting his head.
"What's going on Hardison?" he sat down next to the hacker, hand resting on his shoulder blade.
"N't-h'n," the hiccup that sounded like a sob did nothing to convince Eliot.
"Sure," Eliot knew he can wait out Hardison.
"T'days July six't." Such a quiet statement that carried guilt and sadness. Eliot didn't say anything, sure that if he interrupted the young man he'd clam up. "M'best friend die t'day 'n it was m'fault."
"How?" a little disbelief because Eliot's sure even if he tried Hardison couldn't hurt someone, not maliciously or on purpose.
"He was swim'n in the river 'n the current took him under." Hardison finally lifted his head to look at Eliot. "We weren't s'pposed to be there. 'Cause I can't swim but we never listen."
"I don't see how it was your fault Alec," Eliot let his hand travel farther across Hardison's shoulders so it was resting on the opposite side and it was closer to a half hug.
"If I knew how to swim it wou'dn't happ'n." Hardison leaned into the embrace.
Eliot sighed he wasn't good at things like this, "it's possible you would have been swept away too."
"Lot'sa people said it was m'fault."
"Shit," Eliot tightened his arm, "Hardison they were a bunch of assholes and punks."
"Shou'da known how to swim. Thirteen years old 'n di'nt know how to swim."
"C'mon why don't I take you home," Eliot managed to get Hardison standing and the younger man clung to him tightly. He ran a soothing hand up and down Hardison's back and when his head fell on Eliot's shoulder he did his best to get Hardison out of the office.
The ride to Hardison's loft was silent and only broken now and then from the hacker's quiet sobs, that he was trying to muffle into his arm. He thought about just letting Hardison get out of the truck and walk himself up but Eliot couldn't not in good conscious so he parked and got out, hurrying to the other side to help the younger man out. A good thing too because Hardison came stumbling out of the truck and Eliot had to quickly wrap his arms around him to keep him from hitting the ground.
"Easy there buddy," he righted Hardison but kept an arm poised to help him in case he stumbled again.
"S'cond time yu've called me buddy," Hardison looked at him with eyes shinning from some un-shed tears. "We buddies?"
Eliot didn't even pause to think about it, "of course we are," and the bright, watery smile he was awarded with made it worth it. "C'mon now, ya need to sleep." His accent thickened a little, warmed by the happiness he put on Hardison's face.
"Thanks," Hardison whispered sleepily when they reached his door. "You didn-"
"I wanted to," Eliot cut in quickly. "What are friends for?" it was not the right thing to say because Hardison's eyes darkened with sadness again before he abruptly turned to his door.
It Eliot hadn't been watching him the broken whisper could have been his imagination. "Gettin' ya killed."
He grabbed Hardison quickly by the shoulder as the hacker got his door open, "you listen," his hand tightened just a bit. "You did not kill your friend." Eliot decided in that moment that something completely uncharacteristic had to happen, "you did not." He pulled Hardison to him and wrapped his arms around him. One tightly pressed along his lower back and the other coming up to grip the opposite shoulder. Hardison muffled his quiet cry into Eliot's hair and tentatively brought his own arms up for a quick embrace.
It was over quickly both stepping back, but not uncomfortable or embarrassed. Eliot pushed Hardison towards the inside of his loft and followed him in. He answered the questioning look he was receiving with a glare and, "deal with it." He guided the young man until he had him sitting on the couch, remote in hand. "Got anything edible around here?"
He fiddled nervously with the controller before shrugging his shoulders, "don't know." Hardison was sounding noticeable more sober. Eliot took off to look for himself and was pleased to hear the television turn on.
Coming across more bare shelves than anything else Eliot had to settle for making a bag of popcorn and a glass of water for Hardison. "Drink this," he handed it over, "all of it." Hardison slowly finished the glass and handed it back. Eliot refilled, retrieved the popcorn and settled down on the couch next to him. Every time he finished the water Eliot refilled it for him until the process had been repeated four times.
"Seriously," Eliot was pleased by Hardison's distinctly more sober voice, "I can't drink another drop." By the time the popcorn and the game neither of them had been really watching was finished it was late and Hardison was starting to nod off, his head hitting the back of the couch with a soft thump effectively reawaking him each time.
"Get to bed Alec," he nudged the hacker with his shoulder, Hardison had been steadily falling closer and closer to Eliot with each nod-off.
"S'cond time you've called me th't," his slurring due more to his state of awareness, or lack thereof.
"Stop keeping count and get some rest," Eliot muttered heaving himself from the couch. He held his hand out to Hardison who took it and accepted the help. "Night," he pushed the younger man off towards his bedroom. On a whim, by the look on Hardison's face, he turned back and embraced the hitter tightly.
"Thank you," Hardison whispered again.
"Just get some sleep," he untangled himself gently from Hardison's arms. The younger man nodded and walked down the hall. Eliot grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and made himself comfortable. Even with the water and popcorn Hardison was bound to have one hell of a hangover in the morning and Eliot had a mean recipe for such occasions.
slash, pg-13, prompt: the star trek code, slight spoilers for 2x3
Alec was pissed for a reason, what Eliot didn't know yet, but he planned on finding out. Because Alec got to be a bitch about a lot of things; not getting to play his computer games often enough, running out of orange soda, and getting beat up by Parker. He did not, however, get to be bitchy about nothing. And as of right now that was what he was doing.
"Alright, what the hell is your problem?" Eliot demanded as soon as he sat down at the table with their after-job after-sex snack. Alec gave him a glare and dug into the strawberry cheesecake. "I know you've got a problem. You don't think I don't know what angry sex is?"
"That wasn't angry sex and you know why I'm pissed." Alec didn't even look up scowl firmly in place.
"If that wasn't angry sex I don't want to have really angry sex with you," Eliot joked. Someone needed to lighten the mood and it was a cold day in hell when that someone ended up being Eliot. "C'mon now, what the hell did I do?" he was trying really hard to keep his anger at bay. Considering that it would most likely be very misplaced anger.
"'I don't have a television.'" Alec parroted doing a terrible impression of him.
"What, I don't?" This was going down on the list of things Alec did not get to be a bitch about.
"But you've seen all the Star Trek movies," Alec looked annoyed but a little amused too.
"I have?"
"You have."
"When?" Eliot was pretty certain he would remember watching the movies. Alec had an annoying habit of talking through movies though, so he may have tuned out that and the film.
"When you lost that bet," he was smirking now and all traces of his earlier bitchness was gone.
"The one where you said you could kick my ass at computer fighting?" Eliot couldn't help it, even though he knew when he took bets he was going to lose. There was something satisfying about knocking Alec down a peg when he did actually win one of them.
"Yes, when I kicked your ass at Tekken," big cocky smirk this time.
"Darlin'," Eliot leaned forward, "I'd still kick your ass." They shared a little smile. "And giving me head during movies you actually want me to see isn't the greatest idea."
Eliot smirked when Alec's cheeks darkened, full blown laughed when he mumbled, "I can't help that they get me going."
"It should be at least a little creepy that Star Trek gets you horny," he finished up his cake, "but I think you geek is rubbing off on me." He grabbed Alec's hand and pulled him. "How about you go put in Ralph O Kahn," it was well worth the annoyed huff, "and we see how much I can pay attention this time."