Fanfiction || The Intervention Job || OT3 || Part Two

[cuzimastripper]

Title: The Intervention Job
Author: Sapphire Smoke cuzimastripper
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: NC-17 (for future chapters)
Pairing: Hardison/Parker/Eliot
Length Thus Far: 19,616 words
Summery: Sophie's been in the habit of holding interventions ever since the one with Nate, and this time Hardison is her next victim.
A/N: Yes, it turned into a OT3. My bad. And with OT3 comes naughtiness, because I'll take any excuse to get Parker naked.
Other Parts: PART ONE

CHAPTER SIX
The Argument

Eliot hasn’t spoken to anyone in a week.

His damn phone was ringing so much that he “accidently” smashed in against a wall before deciding he just needed to get the fuck away. It was Parker and Hardison who called the most. Nate called once to tell him that they had a new client, but Eliot didn’t call back and he didn’t come so he figures the rest of the team made out okay without him. Sophie called a couple times, asking where he was, saying that Nate was furious, but that was only the first two days. After that though things had been pretty silent, though only because the phone was crushed into tiny pieces.

And then he got away. He just got in his car, drove north to freaking Canada, and camped out in the woods for four straight days. No electronics, no anything that will make him think about Hardison. Just trees, leaves, animals, and bugs. Nothing around him that in any way, shape or form, says to him, “Eliot, you might kind of be a bit of a faggot.”

Shit.

The sabbatical didn’t work though. Being out in the woods where it’s quiet, and he’s alone, just made him think even more. Killing things didn’t even help any, but then again Eliot never got off on killing innocent animals. Hunting is great and all, but there’s no thrill or challenge in it, and without thrill or challenge, his mind continues to wander. It just fucking wanders, and wanders, until it locks on to that damn memory of him and Hardison on fucking display for Parker. She better have deleted that picture after Hardison was finished… fixing it.

Fuck, he better of fixed it and didn’t just give it to Sophie the way it was. He knows a million places to hide a body. For the record.

This whole thing made him feel like something was eating him from the inside, chewing up his damn stomach and forcing its way up his throat. It squeezed his insides, made him nauseous, and made him want to hit something until his knuckles bleed. It made him want to do irrational shit just to prove to himself that he’s a man. But no matter what he wanted to do, what he even tried to do to fix it, it just wouldn’t go away. All he could think about was Hardison.

What’s worse, he’s gotten to the stage where he’s worried that he freaked him out, and now things were going to be weird between them. They’re already fucked all to hell and back again anyway, but what if Hardison thought that he wanted him, and what if Hardison didn’t want him?

Okay, that’s ridiculous. Everyone wants him.

At least that’s what he always believed. Maybe his cockiness isn’t that attractive, but he tries to keep it internal. But right now his cocky attitude was failing, and he has this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about Hardison might think he’s disgusting or something.

Man, he’s turning into such a woman.

He slumped onto his couch after striding back into his house and slamming the door behind him. He let out a breath, and just stared at the wall opposite of him. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. Part of him told him to just fucking run, get the hell out of there, out of this whole stupid little group thing that they all got going on but… shit, these people? As much as he hates to admit it, they’re his family. When once it was easy to just leave without a second thought, now he couldn’t even get the strength to pack a bag.

His head hurt, his stomach hurt, and all he could just do is sit there.

An hour passed, maybe two. Hell, even three, he really wasn’t keeping track. But then he hears a knock on the door, and every inch of his skin started to prickle and his muscles tense as he immediately grew defensive. But he just sits there, ignoring it. Whoever it is will go away eventually.

But they didn’t. The knocking kept fucking continuing, and it made Eliot want to freaking scream, open the door, and just beat the hell out of the person on the other side of it.

But then he hears the lock click, and he jumps up. Ready for an attack, though he was sure it probably wasn’t one, he watched the door open. When he saw who it was he unclenched his fists and glared. “Is privacy a foreign concept to you?”

Hardison looks just as surprised to see Eliot in front of him as well. “Thought you weren’t home.”

“So what, you were trying to fucking break in then?”

“No, I… just shut up, Eliot. You’re always such a fucking asshole, you know?” Hardison tells him as he comes inside and shuts the door behind him. “I said I didn’t think you were home, didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping that you were.”

Eliot didn’t know what to say to that, so instead he opts with, “I’m getting new locks.”

Hardison scoffs and replies, “Go for it, Parker’s taught me how to pick a lot of things.”

“What do you want, Hardison?” Eliot asks, and sits back down on his couch, arms crossed across his chest. He was feelings fucking weird, and he didn’t like it.

“To see that you weren’t dead, for one. Or that you left permanently. You know, it’s a real shitty thing to do when you just up and leave like that. Everyone was worried,” Hardison tells him, as he has the nerve to lecture him.

“Oh, I’m sorry Daddy, I’ll never do it again, promise,” Eliot replies in sarcastically and resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Fuck this, nevermind. Forget I even came,” Hardison tells him, his own anger starting to rise to the surface, and he turns to leave. But Eliot doesn’t want him to leave. He has no idea where that came from, because he was pretty sure up until five seconds ago that he wanted him as far away from him as possible.

“I just… had to leave,” Eliot tries to explain, half heartedly. He hates having to explain himself, and he hates talking about his feelings even more. He likes to pretend he doesn’t have any.

Hardison stops and turns back to him, “And you couldn’t take two damn seconds out of your day to tell any of us?”

“Look, I won’t do it again, okay? So just leave it,” Eliot tells him gruffly, staring at the television, which isn’t on. He just doesn’t want to look at him.

“I ain’t just gonna leave it, Eliot. I know why you left.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“Stop being such a bastard, it’s getting old. I get it cause I wanted to leave for the same damn reason, alright?” Hardison tells him, voiced raised and forceful. That makes Eliot glance at him.

“So what then?” Eliot asks him. “You want to sit down and have us talk out our feelings?” Sarcasm. Fuck feelings. He almost used finger quotes, but that would be pushing it too far.

“No, don’t be stupid,” Hardison tells him, though doesn’t sound too convinced on the matter. Neither was Eliot, honestly. They both are silent for a little while until Hardison gives up and sits next to him on the couch. They both don’t look at each other, and neither of them speak.

Finally Hardison says, “We gotta deal with this somehow though. Otherwise it’s gonna be all…”

“Fucked up.”

“Weird,” Hardison finishes, but shrugs. “That too. Already is that.”

“What the hell am I supposed to say? I was just trying to help. If Parker would have just did it herself we wouldn’t be doing this shit right now. Whatever this is,” Eliot says, still not looking at him. There, he shared and participated. He’s done now.

“It ain’t Parker’s fault. It’s mine. I should’ve just went to that stupid club,” Hardison tells him. Eliot doesn’t care who’s to blame, as long as it isn’t him. So this works.

Eliot still doesn’t say anything, since he’s done with sharing now, so Hardison goes on. “But if you wanna… you know, talk or whatever… about what you’re going through, I’m here. You helped me.”

That makes Eliot look at him and say forcefully, needing to make his point, “I ain’t going through anything.”

“Eliot, I felt you… uh….” Hardison starts, but doesn’t finish from the awkwardness of saying it. It didn’t matter though, because that made Eliot blow his fucking top.

“Hardison, I ain’t no fucking fag! I don’t know what the hell you thought you felt but I-”

“A fag?!” Hardison yells. Oh shit, that wasn’t supposed to come out of his mouth. And now Hardison was up, on his feet, yelling over him. It makes Eliot stand to, be face to face with him on even ground. Level the field. “Is that what you fucking think I am then?!”

“I didn’t mean it like-!” Eliot tries to defend, but knows he’s already fucked it up.

“How many other ways can you mean it?!” Hardison screamed at him, and he’s actually making Eliot start to feel bad. “Fuck you, Eliot! I should just leave before I get my gay cooties all over you then, huh?”

He turns to walk away, but Eliot puts a hand on his shoulder. Hardison shoves it off and keeps walking, so Eliot grabs him more forcefully. “Stop! Damnit, Hardison!”

“Get off of me!”

“No, damnit! Listen for one fucking second, will you?! I’m sorry! It just fucking… came out, I don’t know!” Eliot tries, but he has no idea how to defend what he just said to him.

Hardison turns and glares down at him and says evenly, anger written all over his face and tainting his voice, “Least I know what you really think now.”

“That’s not-”

“Just shut up, Eliot. You’re just a fucking asshole, and you always will be.” Then he’s walking away, towards the door, and Eliot doesn’t know what to do.

It hurts. He hates to admit that it hurts, but it does. He didn’t mean to say… fuck he didn’t mean it. He just said it cause of… everything. This whole screwed up situation. Out of fear, or something. He doesn’t know. Damnit, all he’s been thinking about has been Hardison for the last couple of days, and he didn’t mean… shit.

“I’m fucking scared, okay?!” Eliot screams at him, hating with every fiber in his being for being honest. But it made Hardison stop again and turn to look at him.

“And you think I’m not?! It’s not fucking easy!”

“I GET THAT, DAMNIT!” Eliot yells, frustrated beyond words. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know what to say, how to fix this problem, or even if he wants to fix it anymore.

“Then stop being a dick and talk to me!” Hardison yells, demands at him. Eliot’s getting overwhelmed, his anger and his fear at the point of exploding. “Tell me how the fuck you feel about it for shit’s sake!”

“I LIKED IT, AND I FUCKING HATE THAT I DID, ALRIGHT!?” Eliot yells at him. “ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!”

Hardison stops and just stares at him. There’s silence for what seems like forever, and Eliot just wants to fucking hit something, anything. His chest is heaving, his heart feels like it’s being compressed into a damn marble and he doesn’t think he’s ever hated silence more in his entire life.

Finally Hardison speaks, but when he does it’s quiet and cautious. “Because I’m a man… or because it’s me?”

Eliot doesn’t answer for awhile, only because he doesn’t want to tell him that he thinks its because of him. So he lies. “I don’t know.”

“Oh,” Hardison says, and Eliot wants to hit him now. ‘Oh’? Seriously? Is that the best he could do?

All Eliot can do is mumble, “You’re turn.”

“I…” Hardison starts to say, but suddenly he’s looking at the floor awkwardly. “I guess I liked it too…”

“You guess?”

“I did, okay? Jesus.”

“Because I’m a-?” Eliot starts to ask the same question Hardison asks him, but is interrupted.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

Great, now he was doing it. There’s more silence before Hardison says softly. “Maybe we should just… talk about this later… or something. I don’t think I can handle anymore of this right now.”

Eliot takes a deep breath, the first one it feels in like a fucking century, and he nods. “Yeah. Later.” Or never, but he doubts that wish will come true. But even now, he doesn’t even know if his hearts even in that wish anymore.

“Later,” Hardison repeats.

There was silence for a little while longer before they said their awkward goodbyes and Eliot was alone again. And once again, the theme of his freaking life now apparently, he didn’t know what to do.

Part of him wanted to go after Hardison, just fucking… kiss him. God, he hates that he wants that. And maybe because of that, that’s why he didn’t. Because of that, why he just sat on his couch and continued staring at the wall. Because of that, he was more scared than he’s ever been in his entire life.

CHAPTER SEVEN
The Man Whore

Eliot awoke to the sound of someone in his kitchen. Every inch of his body alert, he didn’t make a sound as he climbed out of bed and swept out of his room silently. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it sure as hell ain’t it’ll be the last. While the last couple times this has happened it’s been Parker doing her damn… snooping routine again, it would be stupid to let his guard down just because he thinks the thief is going through his shit yet again.

But as he enters his kitchen, ready for a fight… he see’s Parker. His muscles relax and he growls, “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

Parker turns around, and he catches a glimpse of what’s on the counter behind her. His eyes narrow, what the hell?

“You never decorate,” she tells him. But she it’s not what she says, it’s how she says it that makes him think something’s wrong.

“Halloween ain’t my thing, gives jackasses an excuse to… just fucking be jackasses,” Eliot tells her, looking at the freshly carved pumpkin behind her. She carved it, or at least, he could only assume it was her that carved it because the way she did it… well, it ain’t anything normal, that’s for sure.

“It’s fun, you get to be someone you’re not,” Parker tells him, something that usually would make her smile, but she doesn’t.

Eliot leans against the threshold of his door and looks at her. There’s something off about this whole thing. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about, darlin’?”

Parker looks like she’s having some kind of internal struggle, and Eliot just watches her curiously. She’s fidgeting a bit, and her lips are pursed. Finally she bursts out in a hurry, “You left.”

“You’re mad at me cause I left? You ain’t one to talk,” Eliot tells her, but gently. He knows she’d leave in a heartbeat if she felt like it. Hell, how many times did she run off on them in Serbia?

“I’ve never left, not really,” Parker tells him. She’s playing with her hands, and Eliot knows there’s more to this than she’s letting on. “I should, but I don’t. And I don’t care. You left, but you came back. But then you made him be all…”

“Him? Him who? Hardison?” Eliot asks, trying to work this out. When Parker’s trying to make sense, she usually never does. What the hell did he ‘make’ Hardison do?

Parkers silent again, looking awkward as she has another internal struggle. But she takes a deep breath, sets her jaw, and looks at him. “I don’t steal things from you, so don’t do it to me.”

Eliot just blinks at her. Knowing full well what she’s implying, but not quite believing it, he can’t help but let out a little laugh as he answers, “Do you seriously think I…? Are you… are you serious?” Alright, it’s one thing for him to like kissing Hardison. He can deal with that. Well, alright, not well, but he can still deal. Another to even imply that he wanted…

Wait.

Is Parker jealous? Jealous of him? Has this world freaking turned upside down?

“You have lots of women. Joan, and Melissa, and Bobbi, and Susan, and Jane, and-”

“I get it, Parker,” Eliot interrupts.

“Sally, and Jessica, and Rose, and Nikki, and April, and-”

“I get it, Parker!”

“But I don’t have lots of women,” Parker says, and Eliot raises his eyebrows. Parker doesn’t noticed, just keeps going, “Or men. So just… don’t. You take everything you want but I don’t want you to have him.”

Eliot seriously wanted to slap himself to see if he was still awake. This is all so fucking… bizarre. Besides… “Ain’t you the one who’s keepin’ him on the backburner? You can’t get something stolen that you don’t own, sweetheart.” Okay, maybe he was a little pissed now. Not that he knew why, but he was starting to get there.

Parker narrows her eyes, and then they go wide again. Uh oh, that was her furious glare. And damnit, he has no idea why the hell that came out of his mouth in the first place. It wasn’t like he cared whether Parker had him or not, he didn’t give a shit who Hardison was with. Okay, maybe he did a little. But why should he care if he goes with Parker? Just cause he liked kissing the man, MAYBE, just ONCE, it didn’t mean he wanted to buy the guy a bouquet of flowers and fuckin’ serenade him.

But that still didn’t change the fact that Parker said she didn’t want him yet, so there really isn’t any need for her to go all Wife Swap on him like this. And there definitely wasn’t a need to make him out to be some sort of slut.

“You DON’T understand!” Parker yells, the only thing she seemed to be able to yell, since she was never the best at verbalizing her own feelings. She slams down the knife she had in her hand, the pumpkin carving knife, and Eliot has no idea why the hell he didn’t realize she was holding it to begin with. What the hell is happening to him?

“And weren’t you the one who thought him being with a man would be hot? And lemme quote here in case you forgot: you would ‘want to watch’?” There was finger quotes this time, he couldn’t help himself. Apparently he couldn’t stop himself either, seeing as he wasn’t shutting his mouth. Why the hell is he arguing over something he doesn’t care about?

And why the hell was he arguing with Parker, of all people?

“I DIDN’T MEAN WITH YOU!” Parker explodes, and it actually makes Eliot stop for a second and look at her like he didn’t know who the hell was standing in front of him anymore.

Why the hell are they fighting about this? And why the hell was it actually getting him mad?

“You’re the one who was watching us like you were gonna orgasm all over your damn self!” Eliot yells, then has the fleeting thought that maybe he went a little bit too far with that one. Talking about Parker and orgasms just didn’t sit right in the same sentence.

“That was before you were gonna ruin everything! EVERYTHING!” Parker yelled, and then she picks up the knife again. Eliot’s sure she’s not going to do anything with it; she probably just needs to hold something to control herself. While a knife isn’t the best choice, Parker has never been one to make the greatest of choices. She probably didn’t even notice she picked it up. But she’s still talking, still yelling. “You can sleep with the whole country, I don’t care, just please don’t with him!”

But the knife is waving around, the damn girl can’t hold it properly and he’s afraid she’s just gonna throw it and not realize what the hell she’s doing. So Eliot does what comes instinctually and grabs her wrist with the knife, pressing on the pressure point that’ll make her drop it. The pressure seems to freak her out though, make her think she’s being attacked so she swings and connects. “Damnit, Parker!” Eliot growls and grabs her other hand, pressing her up against the counter to prevent her from moving. He needed to calm her down. “Don’t fuckin’ yell at me and pick up a knife!”

Okay, he wasn’t the best at calming people down.

“I was just holding it! LET ME GO, ELIOT! NOW!” She struggling against him, and he releases his grip. She relaxes finally, but they’re both breathing heavily, just staring at each other, each of their faces barely an inch away as they glare at each other. There’s silence for awhile before Parker tells him evenly, but quietly, “Have someone else.”

“You can have him,” Eliot tells her, but still doesn’t move. Neither does she. Parker does that blinking thing that she does with her eyes, that weird one, and looks at him like something’s supposed to happen. Maybe it’s that he’s supposed to move, but she ain’t either and right now he kinda just wants to glare at her. Because hell, she storms into his house and starts all this damn drama for no reason.

“Why do you look like you want to kiss me?”

That revelation does make him let go of her and take a step back. He blinks as he realizes that he wasn’t glaring at her like he thought he was… he was staring at her lips. “I wasn’t… I don’t wanna kiss you, Parker.” Because he doesn’t, he so doesn’t. Maybe just that little morning idiot that inhabits his body until noon does. But that ain’t him. He doesn’t like her, hell he likes any other woman more than he likes Parker. Just cause she’s not all that horrible looking doesn’t mean he wants to stick it in her or anything.

Alright, this is getting ridiculous.

“You wanted to kiss me!” Parker says, like she’s actually realizing something that’s both surprising and really amusing at the same time. That ticks Eliot off. Even more now that she has to nerve to point at him like he’s some kind of side show freak act.

“Parker, I wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last woman on this earth,” Eliot tells her evenly, but it has absolutely no effect on her like it would a normal human being. She’s still looking at him like he’s something she’s fascinated and amused by. And plus, he ain’t sure if it’s all that true, and it’s making him even more pissed off.

“Yes you would, you almost did,” Parker tells him. She’s in her own little world, disassociating from the fight they had before. Trying to make it about something else. And even though Eliot knows all this, she’s still getting to him.

“I didn’t almostanything!”

“You were like this close…” Parker starts, that stupid grin on her face as she squishes her fingers together to indicate something tiny, which was no where near how close they were together. They were so, SO much farther away than that! Miles fuckin’ away!

“Just shut up, Parker! Get the hell outta my house,” Eliot growls. This damn woman… she’s so fucking-

“You were all like this,” Parker says with a smirk, and starts to mock him by pulling this stupid little doe eyed look as she steps towards him so that she’s almost pressed against him. Now she’s making stupid kissy lips, and it’s just pissing him the hell off, so he shoves her back against the counter and presses his lips against hers. Just to make her shut up, or prove a fucking point, or fuck knows what else. He’s just pissed, and apparently this is how he’s gonna solve it. Shocking the girl fucking mute.

The kiss doesn’t last long. He’s off of her just as soon as he was on her, and that damn smirk is wiped off her face now. She looks like she just saw a ghost as she just stares at him. But he’s still pissed off. Something he can’t describe is just eating at him, clawing its way to the surface and making him want to explode.

“There! Happy? Fuck, Parker. I kissed Hardison, fuckin’ kissed you, who’s next? Would you prefer it be Nate or Sophie?” he growls. She’s still staring at him like she doesn’t know what to do, and he ain’t done. Shit’s just coming out of his mouth, and hell if he knows where it’s coming from. “Obviously you need to fuckin’ list every damn woman I’ve ever had, fuckin’ have to bitch cause you think I want your… whatever the hell he is, he still ain’t yours, by the way. So what? I’m just this fuckin’ man whore, thinkin’ that just cause I’ve had whoever, whatever, that I don’t got no damn feelings? That I just… you know what? Just go fuck yourself, Parker. And while you’re at it, why don’t you go buy yourself some damn emotions with that money you fuckin’ masturbate with at night, maybe then you might be somewhat human and stop fuckin’ talking about shit you don’t understand.”

Alright, he seriously took that way too far.

But he was pissed, he was royally fucking pissed. He had no idea why, maybe his feelings are hurt. Maybe he’s just sick of people thinking he just his dick in whatever comes along. Maybe he’s fucking pissed because part of it’s kinda true. Maybe she’s fucking right.

God damnit.

“I don’t…” Parker starts, her voice shaking a little. Oh, shit. “I don’t masturbate with money,” she tells him finally. But that’s clearly not what’s upsetting her, and she’s just picking something out of the mix because she doesn’t know how to respond to anything else.

“Damnit, Parker…” Eliot sighs and leans against the counter, running his fingers through his hair. He has a headache. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry, alright? I’m just… fuckin’ pissed.”

Silence. Then, “You kiss people when you’re mad?”

He looks up at her, and she’s looking at him funny. But that really wasn’t anything new, he could never decipher what she’s thinking just by how she looks. “I just… no. I don’t know. I just did it. Make you shut up or something.”

“So we can stop fighting?”

“Yeah… but it didn’t work out so well, did it, darlin’?” Eliot smirked, a bit amused in that way that’s really not so funny. “I didn’t mean what I said, I just fuckin’ hate when people assume that I sleep with every god damn broad that comes around me. I’m just… fuckin’ pissed that even you would see that, and I hate that you-”

But then he’s cut off, and Parker’s lips are on his again. He doesn’t know what to do, how to even fucking react to that, so he does the only thing he knows how to do: he wraps his arms around her waist, closes his eyes, opens his mouth, and enjoys the ride for what it’s worth. Hey, he might be pissed, but he ain’t stupid.

When they break he stares at her like she’s some kind of freaking alien (which really, he’s still convinced a little that she might be) and asks, “What the heck was that for?”

“So we can stop fighting,” she tells him, like its fucking as simple as that. She tilts her head and asks him, “Does that work with everyone? Should I kiss more people?”

Oh god, his headache just turned into a migraine.

“Parker, that’s not what I meant,” he tells her. The last thing he needs is Parker randomly kissing him in front of Hardison to avoid a fight, cause all its gonna do is start another one.

Not that it was a bad kiss, and that he might enjoy doing it again but… just no. He ain’t gonna do Hardison like that.

“But it worked,” Parker tells him, not understanding.

“Yeah but…” Eliot tries, then stops. He has an idea. “Actually you know, it worked with me, but I think it’s only gonna work once. So hey, when you fight with Hardison next time… why don’t you kiss him?”

Parker put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “I’m not stupid, Eliot. I know what you’re doing. And I can’t kiss him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like him.”

Seriously? How in the hell did her perspective on kissing become so damn warped? Damn, he just can’t deal with this right now.

“Look, I’ll explain… hell, life and how it works to you in a minute. Go in the living room, lemme rustle up some breakfast and then…” he just trailed off. He needs some aspirin. “Just lemme get breakfast, alright?”

“Okay,” Parker says and smiles, and damn near skips off into the other room.

Man. How the hell he got himself in with all these crazy people, he has no idea.

CHAPTER EIGHT
The Backwards Logic

After Eliot had managed to make bacon and eggs without a fuss from Parker, though only because she was currently absorbed in the TV watching reruns of “Roseanne”, he came back into the living room and handed her a plate. She didn’t thank him, but she did have a big grin on her face as she grabs it out of his hands and starts chowing down. For how skinny Parker is, he never really would have pegged her for much of an eater, but she could challenge the best of them.

“Got any ketchup?”

“What the hell for?” Eliot asks. What the hell could you possibly put ketchup on on this plate?

“For the eggs,” Parker tells him, like it’s obvious. God. She’s one of those people. The fucking weird ones who have to… he really doesn’t get it. But he doesn’t say anything, just points to the kitchen.

“They keep changing Becky’s,” Parker tells him as she comes back into the living room with the ketchup now on her eggs, pointing at the TV with her fork as she talks with her mouth full. She swallows before she finishes, “It confuses me.”

Eliot has no idea what she’s talking about. He has a TV, but that don’t mean that he watches it. But he just says, “Yeah, that confused me too.”

Whatever.

“I mean, they don’t even look alike, they’re both just blonde. Back and forth, back and forth. Changing. Always. I don’t get it.”

Neither does Eliot. He knows of the show, but he never really watched it. But he takes a bite of his food and nods along with her. It seems to please her for the most part that he’s taking part in the Becky discussion.

“I don’t like the new girl, or the girl they keep switching. Whatever. She’s not a very good Becky. She’s not whiney.”

Lord. Save him.

Parker’s done with her food, freaking already, and is now staring at his plate like a hungry wolf. He just sighs and hands it to her. Whatever, he’s lived off of less. She smiles are plunges into her new plate.

Might as well get this over with.

“Parker, you know, usually when you like someone you kiss them, not the other way around.”

Parker stops eating, fork mid way to her mouth and looks at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Eliot blinks. Seriously? Okay, deep breath. It’s Parker. Some things just need a little more… pushing. But he opens his mouth, and he finds he has nothing else to say besides, “WHY?”

Parker takes another bite of her food, explaining herself between mouth fulls as she twirls her fork in the air. “Cause if you like someone and they don’t like you then you did this thing that people think is, I don’t know, intimate. But if you do it with someone you don’t, it feels much better cause you’re brain isn’t going all…” and then her fork spazzes in the air. Eliot blinks again.

“Crazy?” he hazards a guess.

Parker swallows and nods. “So if I kiss him, I’ll be all…” she does the fork thing again. “But when I kiss you, then I’m all…” she keeps the fork still. “And that makes me…” then she smiles.

Eliot rubs his temples. Okay, this clearly is going in the wrong direction. He wasn’t trying to convince Parker she should kiss him more, he was trying to do the opposite! But he needs her to get this, so he tries to get inside her head so he can talk to her in ways she can understand.

Oh, her head is a scary place.

“But sometimes when you kiss someone you like, and you get all…” he picks up his fork and mimics what she did, “it’s a really good feeling. One of the best, or you know… whatever.” Okay, that was awkward. “Plus, even if you like someone, it can still be…” he stilled his fork, “calming. Nice.”

Parker seems to think about this for a moment, but then shrugs. “So then I don’t know if I like someone just by the…?” she does the fork thing again. Okay, they seriously need to stop waving utensils around.

“No.”

“So I might like you then?”

Eliot swears he had a brain a second ago. He’s sure it just died. Again.

“No, Parker, that’s not what I-” Why is this never going in the direction he wants it to? Seriously.

“So let me try it again,” Parker interrupts, and for the love of god is now practically on top of him. Oh, shit. He tries to back up, but he’s against the edge of the couch and now Parker’s pretty much on him.

“Parker, don’t-”

But then her lips connect with his, and he can’t think. God damnit. He kisses her back as much as she’s giving him, which is only a little. But then he gets his sense back and pushes her away gently. “Parker, we seriously can’t-”

“I wasn’t done,” Parker tells him, in that little factual way that she does that totally dismisses anyone else around her. Her lips are on his again, and he can feel himself start to let go. The hand that was on her arm to push her away tangles in her blonde hair as he pulls her closer to her. And then because of whatever the hell cruel joke God’s playing on him, suddenly her tongues in his mouth, and it’s just fucking over.

“Damnit,” he mumbles against her lips as he pulls her up to be more on top of him, needing her body pressed into his. He ain’t even thinking about what’s going on, he just can’t. He can’t think about how it’s Parker of all fucking people, he can’t think about how she’s actually managed to turn him on, this damn weird girl managing to get him a little hard, and he damn sure can’t form a thought about anyone else right now, like Hardison. At least… not right now.

“Mmm,” she moans softly against his lips, and that was it for his dick. It was up and ready to make it’s grand debut to her. He pushes into her, making her sit up a little as he kisses her more roughly. She’s got a hold of his shirt now, in her delicate little hands, and her tongue is so damn skilled all he can think about is how it might feel against his cock.

But that thought right there jolts him out of whatever haze he was in, and he breaks the kiss. “Parker, stop. We can’t be doin’ all this.” His dick isn’t happy with that plan, but whatever.

She’s breathing a bit heavy, and for the love of everything, she subconsciously licks her bottom lip slightly. God, he’s in hell. “Why not? I liked it.”

Shit, he did too. That’s a mind fuck and a half.

“Hardison.”

God, that right there just made him feel wicked guilty. Shit.

“But I like him.”

“Exactly.”

“And so do you.”

“Exa-wait, hold on. No,” Eliot tells her. Dude, he almost got tricked into that one. That was sneaky.

“Yes you do. And if I like him, and you like him, doesn’t that mean we should like each other?”

What in the…? Where the hell does Parker get her logic?

“No, that means you should go be with him and I’ll…” Okay, he didn’t know what the hecks he’s gonna do. Go find himself another broad to entertain himself with for a night.

Shit. He is a slut.

“I can’t be with him, I like him,” Parker tells him, for the millionth time.

“But you just said you liked me too, so you can’t be doing this with me either,” Eliot tells her, just trying to find a way to make this stop before it goes any further.

“I didn’t say that, I said I might. I don’t know, I wasn’t finished kissing you yet,” Parker tells him, and tries to lean in again, but he doesn’t let her get that far this time.

“Weren’t you just screaming at me earlier over Hardison? This doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense, Parker,” Eliot tells her, frustrated all to hell now. Because hell, it didn’t! He doesn’t care if Parker has backwards logic, it’s still fucked up!

“You can’t have him,” she repeats. Great, because that just answered his question. Sure.

“And yet you can’t have him either, so what? You think you can just have me as consolation prize?” Eliot asks her, now offended. He is not second best.

Parker’s just looking at him like he’s crazy. He feels the need to stick a damn mirror in her face so that just for once she can look that way to someone who actually deserves it. “No, I was just trying to see if I liked you, and if I did, then no more kissing. If I don’t, then there can be sex.”

Oh, for the love of shit.

“Parker, I am not, let me repeat, am not going to sleep with you, especially because if you did it would be because you don’t like me. I mean, what the fuck is that? Seriously.”

“Eliot, if you don’t understand it, I’m not going to explain it to you.”

“Get off of me.” He’s so done with this.

“But I’m not done-”

“Trust me, Parker. You’re done. You’re more than done. Off. Now.”

Parker narrows her eyes, but climbs off of him. Eliot runs his fingers through his hair, fixing what she messed up with her little fucking game, and looks at the TV. He just needed to not look at her right now. She’s so fucking screwed up in the head, and he can’t play these damn games.

Fuck, he missed Hardison. Even with all the gay shit, it wasn’t half as confusing as this.

Then the doorbell rings. Of course.

Parkers off the couch and up to answer it before Eliot can tell her to fucking fix herself properly and look presentable. But when she opens the door and Hardison’s on the other side of it, she smiles and waves. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Hardison says as he comes inside, apparently not noticing anything wrong, thank god. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“She carved a freaking pumpkin and was loitering in my kitchen,” Eliot tells him evenly. Hardison smirks and looks over at Eliot then, but then when both boys lock eyes, the awkwardness begins. Both of them just remembered their conversation the night before. Eliot clears his throat. “Parker, close the door. Don’t need it open for the damn world to see.”

Parker rolls her eyes but closes the door. “Wanna see my pumpkin?” she asks Hardison.

“Sure.”

Parker skips off into the kitchen, and Hardison and Eliot are left looking at each other. Eliot squirms uncomfortably in his seat. Not only was he in an awkward position because of what happened between them, now he’s in an awkward position because of what also happened with Parker.

“Didn’t know she’d be here… came to, you know. Finish, or whatever,” Hardison tells him as he folds his arms into himself.

“Makes you feel any better, when I woke up I didn’t know she’d be here either,” Eliot tells him.

Parker comes back out, proudly presenting her pumpkin to Hardison. “You like it?” she asks, all smiles. How the hell she can go to making out with Eliot one minute and then acting completely natural the next, Eliot has no idea.

Makes him wonder who else she’s done this to.

“That’s a lovely…” Hardison tries, trying to figure out what it is, but apparently he can’t either so he finishes with, “It’s nice, Parker.” Parker beams at him.

“Eliot’s always so grumpy I thought decorations would help him be… ungrumpy.” She places the pumpkin on the coffee table now and smiles at it. Eliot glowers. He is not grumpy.

“Good idea,” Hardison tells her, just agreeing with her. Stupid idiot.

There’s silence for a little while before Hardison says, “Hey, Parker? I gotta talk to Eliot for a minute.”

“Okay,” Parker says, and sits down on the couch. The girl obviously can’t take a hint, buts that’s never anything new.

“Alone, if you don’t mind,” Hardison tries. Parker looks at him like that doesn’t make any sense. But clearly nothing in the real world makes any sense to her.

Parker narrowed her eyes, upset with not being included. “FINE,” she says, and gets up. “I’ll be in Eliot’s bedroom if you need me.”

“Not in my-” Eliot tries, but doesn’t get very far. She’s already gone. Aw, fuck it. He already has everything he doesn’t want her to see in his storage.

Hardison takes a deep breath then, and looks down at Eliot. Eliot pats the seat next to him kind of awkwardly. Man, he really didn’t want to do this. But he was looking at him, and just feeling so damn guilty about Parker that he couldn’t just tell him no. Can’t tell him not now. Can’t tell him he doesn’t want to do this.

Shit. He’s so gonna kill Parker later.

CHAPTER NINE
The Helping Hand

“So I guess we should…”

“Talk.”

“Yeah.”

Silence. What the hell was he supposed to say? Eliot didn’t know how to start this conversation for the life of him. Obviously he’s not going to tell him he liked kissing him because it was him. He’s not even going to entertain the idea that he actually might like him a little more than he’s been letting on. Because hell, this whole gay thing is obviously some kind of fluke. Just a passing attraction that’ll die just like everything else. And hopefully like his apparent attraction to Parker will.

God. He made camp in denial, didn’t he?

“You start,” Hardison tells him.

“Me? Why me?” Eliot asks. Hell no.

“Fine, I’ll start,” Hardison says, like he’s annoyed with him. But they were always annoyed with each other, weren’t they? Except when they were all attached at the… fucking mouth. Jesus.

Eliot still wants to kiss him again. Like that stupid little bird in your ear that’s chirping softly, but so much that you kinda just want to just grab it and squeeze it’s neck till it pops.

He seriously is in so much shit, here. This was not how his life was supposed to pan out. Hell, actually by his calculations he should have been dead three years ago.

“I still think you’re an asshole,” Hardison tells him, and Eliot narrows his eyes. Well, that wasn’t what he was expecting. But Hardison isn’t done. “But you’re… I don’t know, man. There’s something that I… Okay, uh, right. Maybe I might like… you, just… a little. But maybe it’s just cause you were the first guy I kissed, and it’s all just some weird… whatever. But maybe, okay? Yeah. A little.” A pause. “Your turn.”

His turn? Already?

Okay, maybe part of him wasn’t expecting Hardison to admit that maybe he… that he did… whatever, a little. Hell, a large part of him hoped he wouldn’t, so Eliot wouldn’t have to. And while normally he’d be all ‘fuckin’ whatever’ about it, he was feeling so damn guilty that he couldn’t just lie to him. He’s already gonna have to lie about what happened with Parker for freaking ever.

Shit.

What if this starts something? Then what? He doesn’t wanna do it on a regular basis. Well, okay, maybe it wouldn’t be horrible if it happened, but then what if it was supposed to turn into more? He is not, repeat, is not going to have Hardison’s dick up his ass.

Christ. Now he has a mental picture, and it… okay, he’s not even admitting that in his head right now.

“Eliot?”

“What?” Eliot says, annoyed. “Shut up, I’m thinking.”

Hardison rolls his eyes, but looks uncomfortable with the long silence after he just admitted that, so Eliot knows he has to say something, and fast. “I dunno what it is, okay? But I keep wanting to fuckin’… shit. I keep wanting to…”

Damnit, why can’t he say it?!

“Want to what?” Hardison asks, and Eliot swears he just got a little closer to him. Holy hell. “Eliot? Want to what?”

“I keep wanting to fuckin’ kiss you, alright?” Eliot tells him in a growl, then, “Breathe a word of that to anyone and I’ll kill you.”

That makes Hardison smirk a little, just a slight curve of his lips. But then they’re looking at each other, and its just fucking silent again. Eliot is seriously learning to hate silence. It’s like something’s supposed to happen, hell, both of them know what logically comes next, but neither of them are taking the first move. And while Eliot does want to kiss Hardison, he does, and damnit to hell that it’s getting easier to admit that, he doesn’t want to kiss Parker and kiss Hardison on the same damn couch within twenty minutes of each other. Something with that doesn’t sit well with him.

“Hey you guys, I-” Parker starts as she comes into the room, but stops as she looks at the two men. A long pause as she just stares at them, then she accuses, “You guys were about to kiss!”

Oh, someone freaking shoot him in the face now.

“No, Parker, will you just-” Eliot tries, but she seems torn between furious over it and yet still slightly giddy by the thought. God. He really doesn’t want to have to deal with this right now.

“Yes you were! That’s exactly how you looked when you-”

“PARKER!” Eliot interrupts, trying to make her just shut the hell up before she gets him in trouble. “We’re not, just fuckin’… look, there’s a couple grand underneath my mattress, go play with it. Hell, keep it.”

He’s not sure he wants to keep his money after Parker ‘plays with it’ anyway.

“I can have it?” she asks, smiling. Successfully distracted, thank god.

“Yeah, go,” Eliot tells her, and she’s sprints off, back into the bedroom. God, one disaster avoided. Now…

“What did she mean, when you did what?” Hardison asks, who was just curious, not accusing since he didn’t seem to put it together. But Eliot doesn’t want to have to explain, doesn’t want to fucking do all this right now. He doesn’t know how to talk his way out of this, and hell maybe he just doesn’t want to. So instead he does what he does want to do, though still not on this couch. But whatever.

“Just shut up, Hardison,” Eliot tells gruffly before grasping the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Hell, if it distracts him away from that, it’s all good. Him liking it is just a bonus.

Hardison seems shocked for a second, but then Eliot can feel his body relax as he starts to push softly into him. Eliot can feel the man’s hands tangling in his hair, and it makes Eliot softly growl against his bottom lip. He kisses him harder, more passionately, better than either of them have ventured to do before with each other, though maybe only because this time it wasn’t just to get out of a situation, or solve one. This time, both of them admitted they wanted it, and that just made it so much… hotter. Shit.

He seriously needs to stop kissing his coworkers. There was a time where he didn’t shit where he ate.

It’s Eliot’s turn to be the one sliding to be on top, just cause he doesn’t want Hardison to stop and think about what Parker might have meant. He’s pushing him back slowly against the edge of the couch, and his hand slides down his cut stomach before resting just above the lining of his jeans. That seems to make Hardison almost shiver, maybe in anticipation, even though Eliot’s sure he’s not going to…

Okay, maybe he’s curious… but he’s not going to…

But then Hardison’s lips are off of his, and Eliot’s worried that he put two and two together and figured out the fucked up truth. But then the lips are on his neck, and Eliot closes his eyes as his fingers dig into his flesh. Shit, that feels good. Hardison’s almost up to his ear now, and he can feel his ragged breath against his ear, and god he just wants him to touch him.

Holy hell. This is so not good.

“Hardison, hold up…” Eliot tells him breathlessly, and pulls away from him. God, he both loves and hates this day at the same time.

“Jesus, Eliot,” Hardison says, annoyed, and pushes himself out from underneath him. “You’re gonna be all ‘I’m not gay’ again, aren’t you? Can’t you just-”

“Will you let me fuckin’ talk for once without assuming shit? Damn,” Eliot tells him, equally annoyed. Hell, the man never lets him saying a damn word. “We just can’t be doin’ all this right now. Parker’s in there.”

“Parker likes it,” Hardison tells him, and Eliot narrows his eyes. He is not going to be used by him as a tool to get Parker horny.

“No, man. You like her and I ain’t gonna be this… whatever,” Eliot tells him. He’s sick of both of them. He means, shit, both of them want to make out with him right? And yet they’re all pining over each other. He is not gonna be second best to either of them, that’s all kinds of fucked up. Even if he likes kissing him… and hell, her too, it just ain’t…

“Parker… she…” Hardison starts, then sighs. Eliot just looks at him, waiting for him to come up with this brilliant fucking answer he thinks he has if he thinks he can just keep kissing him like that. “I can’t wait around forever for her. I like her, trust me man, I really fucking like her. I do. And maybe one day it’ll happen, but it ain’t gonna be anytime close to now, I know that.”

He has a point, but still.

“Just trust me when I say we shouldn’t do this around her anymore,” Eliot tells him. He meant to say ever. Not do it anymore EVER… but somehow it came out just anymore. Damnit.

“But she said she liked-”

“She doesn’t,” Eliot tells him. “Just, she don’t, okay? Why she came over. She likes it, a little yeah, but it’s weird for her.”

“Shit,” Hardison says, and sighs as he leans back on to couch. “I knew she’d be weird with me liking guys, it’s gonna fuck up everything…”

“No,” Eliot tells him. Shit, he hates this. Why the hell does he have to be the one that does this? Why is he stuck in the middle? He’s not a friggin’ marriage councilor. “She just thinks it’s weird… with… me.”

“You? Why you?”

“How the hell should I know? I don’t venture into Parker’s brain. She just thinks its weird with me, maybe cause she knows me. So let’s just… ease off, for a bit, here… okay?”

Hell, he needs to ease off anyway. He wanted Hardison to touch him. No good can come out of that, obviously. Well alright, there would be good, fuckin’ clearly, but in the long run its just… bad. Plus he still has Parker to deal with, he’s not sure if he made it clear that the kissing has to stop. Parker doesn’t get things as quickly as other people do.

“Should I talk to her?” Hardison asks.

“Just leave it, seriously,” Eliot tells him. Hardison just looks at him for a long time until he nods. Then he looks down and checks the time on his cell phone.

“I gotta go, Nate wants me to research potential clients,” Hardison tells him, and starts to get up. He looks towards Eliot’s bedroom. “Take care of her, alright? Make sure she isn’t ‘relapsing’ or whatever, with the money. Sophie will have a fit.”

“Yeah, sure,” Eliot tells him, and walks with him to the door. He opens it for him, as after Hardison passes him with a goodbye, he doesn’t close it. He just stands there, maybe because he knew it was coming, or maybe just cause he hoped it was coming. But Hardison was back in an instant, his lips on his one more time for a searing kiss. When they break, Hardison smiles, and hell, Eliot may even have a little hint of one on his lips when he says, “Later, man.”

After Eliot closes the front door, he goes to check on Parker in his room, hoping to go she didn’t tear the place apart or anything. He was mildly surprised to find her on his bed, money spread out all around her as she pets it softly.

When she looks up at him, she isn’t happy like he thought she would be. Instead she looks devastated. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “Parker…”

“You kissed him,” Parker says softly, upset. She touches the money delicately, as if she’s afraid she’ll break it. He knew this was a bad idea, hell, all of this. Parker’s always curious, why didn’t he think that she might come back?

“He likes you,” Eliot tells her, just trying like hell to make this not be a complete disaster. Parker yelling was one thing, but he doesn’t think he can handle Parker looking like she’s gonna cry. “A lot, Parker. He fuckin’ likes you a lot, okay? I’m just… right now, I think he just needs someone to help him through his… whatever he’s going through. The gay part, alright? It ain’t anything.”

Parker purses her lips together and gathers up some of the cash before holding it close to her chest. “You’re helping him?” she asks.

“Yeah. I guess. Trying.” Eliot pauses, and sighs as he admits, “He’s helping me too, I guess. Whatever. Because I think I might-”

Okay, he isn’t finishing that sentence.

“Are you going to have sex with him?”

“No, Parker. Would it help if I said a ‘hell’ and a ‘no’? Trust me, it ain’t gonna happen, darlin’. I’m more likely to sleep with fuckin’… you, then him.” Not that he needs that in his life either. Wants, maybe, but not needs.

“So only kissing?”

“Only kissing.”

There’s a pause, and then Parker’s looking up at him again, seemingly more relaxed. “That’s okay then. If you need to help him then you should. But don’t… don’t steal, okay?”

“I won’t steal from you, swear,” Eliot tells her, and that makes Parker smile.

“Okay,” she says, accepting it. Eliot still doesn’t know why. But hell, he doesn’t understand anything that’s been coming out of Parker’s mouth this morning. “Let’s play with the money now. Would you like to be the mayor,” she holds up one crisp hundred dollar bill, “Or one of the towns folk?” Eliot blinks. Is she seriously trying to play with her money like a kid would play with dolls? Yeah, maybe she did have a bit of a problem.

“How about we put this up and we can go watch some more Roseanne and you can tell me more about Becky.”

Parker thinks about that for a moment, then shrugs, apparently finding it a suitable alternative. “Okay, come on.”

Eliot follows her, trying to just let life play out how it’s gonna play out… but all he can think about is how screwed up he’s made. The worst part? He doesn’t even know how it all started anymore, he just already knows he’s neck deep in it.

POST TOO BIG
PART THREE IS HERE.