PSL: Never Say Lie

[radicalliars]

He's letting that sink in, that Cal would have fired him if he'd taken the check, shifting the blame away from the electronics company, onto a father that was just trying to get to his daughter that slipped on the ice. There's something that catches his breath about this, the way that Cal switches in one beat from yelling at him for losing the

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[facs_lightman]

"Well, you certainly had some idea what to do back there," he says, but it's not quite so hard, so on the offense as he has been up until now. Eli looks vulnerable, but he's still hiding, there's a look there like he's trying so hard to conceal... something more, like there are things he's not saying. Something deeper than just a kiss that said I don't just want to fuck you, I want to stay the night, I want to know you. And it did say all of that, and where the kiss failed the look in his eyes said the rest.

The door opens and closes, and Cal doesn't pay it any mind because his eyes are trained on Eli's face, because he knows he's desperate to hide again, desperate to shut this down and slip away and try to pretend it didn't happen.

Cal has questions. Like, how long has Eli wanted this? If he had to guess, since they met. Since before then. If so, why did it never come up? He'd endured all of those months of so-called radical honesty and he'd never said a word about this. He'd said everything else under the sun, things that came into his head, the reasons he didn't want to be at work, that there was no one at work to fantasize about, that he wanted to sleep with Torres. But not this. Not even once. Had the radical honesty been a cover, a way to throw him off, another way to lie? If that's true, he's not sure if he's impressed or not, not sure if it actually irks him.

"What do you want?" he asks, and it's open, it's not aggressive, it's just a question, an open-ended question and Cal's watching his face, desperate to see the truth leak through. 

[radicalliars]

"I shouldn't have-"

But he stops there, because there's a question that follows after, that's not aggressive, open-ended, and he looks at Cal, lips parted faintly in surprise. He takes a half-step in closer, so he can touch fingers against his jacket. Blue eyes looking into hazel as he tries to find words, an answer. The answer is there, on the tip of his tongue, so obvious it hurts.

"I want you."

It had been a lie, a smoke screen, to an extent, the radical-honest. He talked about not having anyone to fantasize about because there was. He talked about sex, because he was under-sexed, because he wanted more than sex. But he's had that so-called-truth stripped away for a while now, even if he has his paycheck back (some of it, anyway). And that makes it harder to lie here, now, when Cal is looking at him like he can see the pieces to the puzzle on his face.

"...I'm in love with you."

His gaze drops, a flutter of eyelashes, shy and timid and scared and it's not who he usually is, but this means too much. Has always meant too much.

[facs_lightman]

Cal's watching him, head just slightly tilted to the side and he's drinking it all in, watching his face and the surprise there, and how it turns to an answer so obvious that the pieces fall into place. This. It's been there the whole time, looks like this. Cal's seen them as they're drawn away, shut down, concealed from across the room or through the glass, the way Eli looks away when he sees that Cal can feel him watching. I'm in love with you isn't new, it's been on the back burner, quietly simmering, unnoticed because it was overshadowed by the radical honesty stunt.

"Really," he says, and it's not a question, it's a statement, almost a threat as he moves in closer, edging Eli back towards the now closed elevator doors. "So what was all of that radical honesty bullshit you pulled around here? Because that's not new," he says, swishing his finger in a roughly circular motion towards Eli's face, indicating that look he'd seen, the one Eli always hides. "Didja figure if you said enough stream of consciousness malarky that I wouldn't notice something flying in under the radar?"

That's one theory. He's looking to see if it sticks. Another theory is that it was a mix, a jumble of truth and lies intended to scramble the signals. He'll rework theories until one rings true, because Eli hasn't just realized his feelings, this has been ongoing and Cal can't leave that part of it alone. That it was here, under his nose, and all that time Cal had been left wondering if he was projecting. Eli got one by him. Just barely. Maybe.

He moved closer again, until Eli had nothing to do but let his back press to the cool metal doors, and he stared up into his face, expectant.

[radicalliars]

Eli steps back, his hands still lightly brushing against Cal's jacket, not quite letting go now that Cal's pulled this from him, this admittance, real honesty. Cal's agitated, and it makes his breath catch, because there's a part of him that likes this. Likes Cal when he's all sharp edges, and hawk-eyed gazes, pushing, pointing fingers. He's in his space, talking, and it's sharp, a little biting, and Eli's trying not to let on how much this gets to him.

It was a little bit what Cal was accusing him of, that if he kept talking enough, said everything that came to mind, he might not see the one thing that Eli couldn't let him read. But, it was more than that, too. Because not everything that came out of his mouth all stream of consciousness was true. Cal was the best; that was why he'd adored him at first, all wide-eyed hero worship.

"Part of it," he admitted, soft and quiet, and Cal's pushing him up against the door, and his heart is pounding in his chest, his face flushed as he looks at him. "Not everything I said stream of consciousness was actually true."

And Loker is scared, because this is what got him in trouble with Cal the first time; lying to him. But, this is different. It was personal. It was something he couldn't let Foster or Cal or anyone see, and with Cal the only way to have a chance was to dress it up so he wouldn't be properly looking. He couldn't risk that a stray arch of an eyebrow, a shift of a glance would give him away.

With Torres, natural that she was, it became even more important to keep her from seeing the truth. So he lied harder; pretended to be interested in sex she wouldn't give, because preening ego was the easiest way to miss something.

[facs_lightman]

That irks him, but at the same time he is impressed. Eli has a lot of balls to stand here like this, chin up and admitting that he lied. Admitting that he'd planned to lie, put thought into a way to do so that would cover the leaks. He understands a lie like this, a lie to protect himself, because in a place like this where everyone can see that you're hiding something in the look on your face, it's self-preservation. Cal does it. Evasion is a way of life here. So is willful ignorance. Letting some things slide because not everything is fair game, no one needs to have every minute truth of their life thrown in their face. But Eli had gone to extremes to hide this, and Cal wanted to say that he'd have purposefully ignored it if he had realized it was more than a passing fancy, but standing here with Eli's hands still on his lapels, he wasn't quite sure.

What would have happened if he had seen the depth of this back then? Could he have let it go, or would it have caught his breath and held his attention and nagged at him until he rattled all the layers away to find out just what exactly it looked like?

And now there's more bait. There's the dangling hook of more lies, the insinuation that the stream of consciousness during the radical honesty was an elaborate game of two truths and a lie. How much of it, then, was true? Cal remembers some of the things that Eli said back then, but not all of them. "What wasn't true?" he pushed, both for the truth and into Eli's space further, if that was possible. Eli's hands couldn't still just brush his lapel, he'd have no choice but to press them to his chest or move them to his sides because there wasn't room, because Cal was crowding him, using the interest that was clearly deeper than sex to shake him.

[radicalliars]

Cal's pressing further into his space, has his back to the elevator doors, and he's so close that Eli's hands slip from the lapels of his jacket to more genuinely touch against his chest. Peeling back the layers, and there's still the part of him that wants to run, because the truth is personal and timid and he wants him. They're so close, and there's a shiver that runs through him from the feel of it, because he wants this, wants more, wants everything he can't have.

"I was never attracted to Torres," Eli admits softly. "Not actually attracted to women." Shy, quiet, a bite of teeth at his bottom lip, because that had been elaborate, careful. There were more layers to Eli than he'd let on, and truth he'd hidden so very carefully, woven with just enough truth. There were other things too, things about his family, and like this, he couldn't lie.

"I didn't put myself through college because my parents couldn't afford it. I put myself through college because I hated what they stood for and refused to take their money." Softly voiced little secrets breathed into the scant space between them, wide blue eyes looking at Cal, his breath coming fast from their proximity.

[facs_lightman]

There's more than that, too. There has to be. These things are big enough that Cal's actually impressed. The lies about his family, about his sexuality. He's gay and Cal never knew. He imagines he must have spent years telling that same lie, not just verbally, but with his face, with his eyes. Dating women he could never want, controlling where he looked and for how long so no one would notice what really caught his attention.

There were times when he'd made jokes about Eli being gay. Stemmed from moments when he had a feeling, when he caught something that seemed to suggest he wasn't quite so straight as he made it seem. Still, he hadn't known the half of it, and the fact that it was coming out that Eli was more of a challenge than he realized had him more interested than before. And he had been interested before. Cal glanced down between them, at the hands against his chest, and then back up.

Then he was kissing Eli again, but it wasn't like the last one, in the lab, slow and sentimental. This one was fierce, it was hard and passionate, like a desire to crawl inside his skin, to be so close. His hand came up again to Eli's cheek, traced along his jaw and his thumb brushes his cheek again, soft like the first time, and the kiss changes. He half comes up for air but doesn't leave, and it's slower and more searching. Like he can kiss answers out of him. 

[radicalliars]

The silence, the quiet moment between those confessions and the way that Cal looks him over has him nervous, because he's not sure what it means. Where do they go from here, what does Cal think of it all? Is this the moment where Cal revokes that hard-earned praise, tosses him back to being an unpaid intern- again- or worse, fires him? With how hard Cal is pressing, that unflinching weight of scathing interest, he can't lie, and so his lies are laid bare.

Then there's no space between them, because Cal's lips are hard against Loker's own. He kisses him back, meeting the passion, the desire, because it's not just sentiment, there's raw, hot want twined up as surely with the love he feels for him. His fingers curl softly in Cal's shirt, holding onto him as he tilts into the feeling of fingers against his jaw, thumb dragging over his cheek. He kisses Cal soft, in between trying to catch his breath.

He doesn't know what this means, but he wants this.

[facs_lightman]

This excites him, Eli's hands on him like this. Touching his shirt, holding on as he leans into his touch. He wants this, but more than that, he wants it like this. Stolen and pressed to the wall, always pushing for more, harder, but an edge of sentimentality, a softness that tempers it.

He pulls back from the kiss, hand skimming forward along his jaw lightly and then it pulls away and hovers there, like he's caught himself, like he realizes suddenly that he's yielding too much.

This can't happen. It's happening, it's clearly too late to decide it can't, but the reality of it is catching up to him, crashing down around him. Eli's shown his hand, they can't keep kissing against the elevator if Cal is keeping his cards to his chest. Sooner or later, he's going to have to lay them down, and he's not ready for that yet. His plan isn't working, his plan to shake Eli and see what fell from the cracks he created. What's happening is that Cal is getting shaken, too, and he's got to cut his losses.

"Don't you ever lie to me again. Ever. Do you understand me?" he asks, catching Eli in his gaze and fixing him with a look that threatens consequences if he does it again.

[radicalliars]

Eli swallows, nods slowly, solemnly at that declaration. Never lie to Cal. And he knows that Cal means more than just that, means lying by not saying something, by keeping quiet. Cal wants his radical honesty, except he wants him to mean it, he wants it for real. And he can give him that, just Cal. It's not as if it's already been proven that there's very little he wont do for Cal.

"I understand, I wont, as long as it's to you."

He means it, his blue eyes intent as they look into Cal's hazels, still breathless from the kiss. His lips flushed, trembling, slightly parted as he looks at him. He wants to kiss him again, but he can tell that something shifted, changed, and he's not sure what it was. Something in how his hand pulled back and hovered, indecisive. He's waiting to see what Cal does next.

[facs_lightman]

He can tell that Eli gets what he means. Not just no lying, but no omission, he wants the truth… but he also suddenly, desperately needs to get away. He wants it one sided, wants to learn and know the truth but not give it. Not yet, anyway, because he doesn't know what he wants. Or maybe he does, and he's just afraid to say it aloud.

He nods once. "Good," he's closing down, his expression hard as he moves back, away from him. "I'll see you Monday."

And that's all. He might be tempted to clap him hard on the arm, the kind of touch that's impersonal and rough, almost condescendingly so, but he doesn't trust himself. He just leaves, looking as if nothing happened, walking at the same speed, the same pace, the same casual, easy gait. But that's all that's the same, because as he moves further away and disappears down the stairs, he's hating himself for leaving. He's no better than Eli was for running, only Cal's doing it better, he's not stopping till he's gone.

[radicalliars]

"Yeah-- Monday."

He manages to not let his voice shake, watching Cal as he leaves, and he's trembling, but he doesn't let it break through until after Cal's gone. His eyes closed tight as he slumps back against the elevator, gasping for breath and with his name hovering on his lips, said like a confession. Cal.

It hurts, watching him walk away, but he feels like he has to let him. Cal is shutting down, and he doesn't think that trying to pull him back, insistent and pushing now, would get him what he wants. So he just breathes, shaken and bleary eyed as he pulls himself together and takes the elevator down.

He doesn't go out over the weekend, unable to think of anything- anyone- else. He can't focus, drinks a few beers to pass the time, watches porn but when his eyes close it's Cal behind his eyelids. He's the one on his knees, or bent over an office desk, moaning his name as he whispers all the filthy things he wants because Cal wont let him lie.

Monday is the same as ever, and Eli is all nerves, flinches when he's in the lab and suddenly Cal's there, but he's not acknowledging him. It's just... Loker can't take it. He can't do this. Which is why he's slipping into Cal's office- doesn't bother knocking- and closing the door behind him. Locks it, because the last thing he wants is Torres or Foster bursting in when he's talking about how he feels.

"I need to talk to you."

[facs_lightman]

The weekend dragged on. Emily was with her mother, and Cal had nothing to do but sit with his thoughts and feelings. Eli said I want you.

He'd said I'm in love with you.

Things that couldn't be taken back.

He didn't know what to do with himself. He feels guilty, feels like he should have given Eli something for admitting what he had, but it alternated with anger that now this was here between them and he had to figure out what to do about it. Address it? Ignore it? Could they even ignore something like this? Eli had had the right idea, to just hide it, to scheme a way to hide it so completely that no one would see through the lie. He should have left well enough alone. Cal knew better than anyone that sometimes, lies are necessary.

That didn't change the fact that Cal wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to do more than kiss him. He wanted to hear more about that, about how he's not attracted to women, because he'd fucking earned it after he'd put up with listening to so much garbage about women he supposedly fantasized about.

He tried to stop thinking about Eli and just get past this and have a weekend, but his mind kept coming back to that moment in the lab, and then at the elevator, and the way it had felt with Eli's hands bunched up in his shirt. In bed as he palmed himself there was nowhere else his mind went to. He tried anything else, but Eli kept slipping in and he imagined Eli's hand, or his body, imagined him riding him and how they'd fit together with those long legs of his.

Monday came and he couldn't look at him. He can't avoid the lab, he has to work, and that's why this was such a horrible idea. He couldn't let this go on, couldn't encourage it. Given time, things would go back to normal, once they were both able to get some distance and rebuild the walls that had been there. But Cal had told Eli not to lie. He needed to change that, needed to tell him to forget what he'd said, that sometimes lying was for survival and that they had to if Eli was going to stay here.

He looks up to see Eli walking into his office. Walking in and locking the door, and he feels a thrill of panic because he's not ready to deal with this yet. He needs more time spent ignoring him, needs to regain composure, get some distance.

"Get out of my office," he said, and it's even enough, his attention returning quickly to his computer screen, but his voice is nowhere near baseline here. He's emotional, and trying not to be.

[radicalliars]

"No. I can't."

Because he needs something, needs something from him, and Eli's insides are all tied in knots and he's on edge and alone like this, he doesn't bother trying to pretend otherwise. Cal can see it anyway, knows. He walks over until he's standing on the other side of the desk, space between them that isn't enough, but feels like too much.

"Talk to me. I- I said I loved you. I meant it. You kissed me."

Not the most politic way to start this, but Cal took politic away when he told him not to ever lie to him.

"I need, something, I need to know. Do you... want me? Want... anything? What do I even mean to you, Cal?"

Because whatever he'd thought he'd known had been ruined when Cal had chased him down, slowly pushed him up against the elevator and kissed him. He doesn't know where he stands, and he's wide blue eyes, lost and confused as he looks at Cal, his slender hands fidgeting because he's nervous. He's known this moment was coming, and he's been through as many ways it plays out as he could think of, and few of them are good.

[facs_lightman]

"I said get out," he's still looking at the computer. But he's not listening. He's not leaving. He's demanding answers, asking questions. Normally, he'd be drinking in the details, staring into his face to know whether he's telling the truth, but he's telling the truth. That's why he's here.

His tone changes from cold, clipped warning to one warmed with anger, and he finally turns his attention to Eli. The look on his face is hard to read. There's anger there, but there's fear and something else that flashes, regret even as he says, "Well, you can kiss your job goodbye."

It's not fair, not remotely, because Eli may have admitted it but Cal chased him down and pushed him up into the elevator doors. They were in this together, or they should have been, but because of Eli's inability to drop it Cal was firing him, or at least threatening to.

It's a deflection more than anything, a way to get the immediacy transferred to something else, to his job, so that Eli isn't urgently demanding to know how he feels. He can't tell him that. He doesn't have the words to tell him that he wants him, too, that maybe he wants more than sex but he definitely does want sex. At least, some part of him wants sex.

[radicalliars]

That catches him for a moment, catches his breath, and the words on his mouth, because it's the one thing that he doesn't think he can bear to lose, because losing his job means losing Cal. It was why he'd been so scared about admitting to what he'd done with Foster, why he filled out applications, went on interviews, but never left. Not even when he was briefly working overnight stocking shifts at a Georgetown boutique, after working cases for Lightman, just to be able to make ends meet.

"Please, Cal, don't fire me. I need this."

Not that the emotional approach usually works on Cal, but Cal demanded the truth. And that is the reason, why that threat hurts so much. He can't even really think of what he'd do, where he'd go. He hardly knows what to do without Cal. His eyes are glassy, wavering as he looks at him with too much intensity, and too much emotion across the desk that separates them. Eli's worrying his bottom lip, a flutter of his eyelashes before they move back to Cal's face.

"Just tell me what you want from me. I'm not going to push you. If it was a mistake, if you don't- don't care, just..."

He was trying to seem professional and matter of a fact about this, but he was failing miserably, his eyes misty, a shiver to his body. His shoulders curling as if he was trying to shrink, hide from the inevitable.

"I don't think I can stop loving you. Just- I just need to know where I stand."