Fic: *With* Him
Fic: *With* him
Author: LMX
Fandoms: Leverage
Rating: PG
Pairings: Alec/Eliot
Spoilers: 1.10 (12 Step), 2.2 (Tap Out) and 2.8 (Ice Man)
Warnings: Minor language
AN: Old Commentfic for ryuutchi who prompted: Eliot always ends up playing the broken guys when they grift
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Eliot Spencer knew how to think on his feet, wasn't no one could say otherwise. And perhaps it hadn't been *so* smooth, declaring himself Nate's brother maybe a beat or two too late, but Sophie had been doing all the acting in their little troupe for months now, he was rusty.
It was a belated realisation that Alec couldn't use that same claim that had him grimacing, but Alec had that sparkle in his eye that said he had something up his sleeve, so Eliot had turned back to eye-fucking the secretary and waited for the hacker to weave his self-declared 'magic'. Alec had always over-acted in the grift, so the accent he pasted on didn't hit Eliot until WAY too late.
"I am *with* him." Alec enforced, moving in too close and *touching*.
Alec was hanging off his arm, and Eliot's mind went blank, full of nothing but fuzzy static, and all he could think of as Alec made their excuses and dragged him away from the desk was - "What if my mama hears about this?"
So there he was, suddenly grifting a gay man with a pathological need to flirt with women. In an addiction clinic. He was lucky they didn't admit him there and then. But then it'd only been a couple of months later, after the team had split up and got back together again, that he and Alec had actually started sleeping together, and it wasn't as if he'd toned down the flirting any, so...
Kid Jones had taken some serious work. He'd known enough fighters with the same story, listened to the way they spoke and watched the way they held themselves and tried to work out how anyone could let life overwhelm them like that.
Still, he understood at least how bad times could creep up on a person, that he knew all too well. He didn't ask Sophie for help getting into character, she was having enough trouble understanding the reality of this whole thing, he didn't need her messing with the grift. Not his side of it at least.
And if his voice was pitched like his dad's, and his shoulders rounded like his dad's and his eyes wide and vulnerable like his dad's, well... No one on the team had met the man, and hopefully they never would, and it sold the role better than he mighta thought.
Whatever, everyone had known it was a bad idea to let Alec grift on that job with the diamonds. The grifter dictates the whole tone of the con and Alec had gone straight in with his what-the-fuck accent and his outfit and his stupid freaking 'Iceman' persona, and the tone of the con was suddenly something out of a bad movie pretending to be a Guy Richie.
And then the asshole has the guts to start changing *his* role in the con. Sure, he didn't need to speak to threaten and intimidate, but a bit of notice might have been nice. He'd been working on his body guard pose and everything. A mute body guard might have a completely different mind-set. This shit was important, not that Alec would know about constructing a freaking grift.
When he managed to get hold of him later (after they'd rescued him from the damn Russians), Eliot had pinned him to a wall and demanded to know just what he thought he was doing.
"Watching you grift is better than watching Sophie." he had answered. "She enjoys it too much. You? You live it. It's art, man, angsty, twisted art. I was just trying t'... y'know shape it. You know me, I'm an artist."
Honestly... Eliot couldn't help but be just a little flattered. That didn't mean he was going to forgive him for the whole Iceman thing any time soon, though. Or let him forget that he needed rescuing. Again. Nope, that was gonna take a whole lot more than flattery.
Author: LMX
Fandoms: Leverage
Rating: PG
Pairings: Alec/Eliot
Spoilers: 1.10 (12 Step), 2.2 (Tap Out) and 2.8 (Ice Man)
Warnings: Minor language
AN: Old Commentfic for ryuutchi who prompted: Eliot always ends up playing the broken guys when they grift
-
Eliot Spencer knew how to think on his feet, wasn't no one could say otherwise. And perhaps it hadn't been *so* smooth, declaring himself Nate's brother maybe a beat or two too late, but Sophie had been doing all the acting in their little troupe for months now, he was rusty.
It was a belated realisation that Alec couldn't use that same claim that had him grimacing, but Alec had that sparkle in his eye that said he had something up his sleeve, so Eliot had turned back to eye-fucking the secretary and waited for the hacker to weave his self-declared 'magic'. Alec had always over-acted in the grift, so the accent he pasted on didn't hit Eliot until WAY too late.
"I am *with* him." Alec enforced, moving in too close and *touching*.
Alec was hanging off his arm, and Eliot's mind went blank, full of nothing but fuzzy static, and all he could think of as Alec made their excuses and dragged him away from the desk was - "What if my mama hears about this?"
So there he was, suddenly grifting a gay man with a pathological need to flirt with women. In an addiction clinic. He was lucky they didn't admit him there and then. But then it'd only been a couple of months later, after the team had split up and got back together again, that he and Alec had actually started sleeping together, and it wasn't as if he'd toned down the flirting any, so...
Kid Jones had taken some serious work. He'd known enough fighters with the same story, listened to the way they spoke and watched the way they held themselves and tried to work out how anyone could let life overwhelm them like that.
Still, he understood at least how bad times could creep up on a person, that he knew all too well. He didn't ask Sophie for help getting into character, she was having enough trouble understanding the reality of this whole thing, he didn't need her messing with the grift. Not his side of it at least.
And if his voice was pitched like his dad's, and his shoulders rounded like his dad's and his eyes wide and vulnerable like his dad's, well... No one on the team had met the man, and hopefully they never would, and it sold the role better than he mighta thought.
Whatever, everyone had known it was a bad idea to let Alec grift on that job with the diamonds. The grifter dictates the whole tone of the con and Alec had gone straight in with his what-the-fuck accent and his outfit and his stupid freaking 'Iceman' persona, and the tone of the con was suddenly something out of a bad movie pretending to be a Guy Richie.
And then the asshole has the guts to start changing *his* role in the con. Sure, he didn't need to speak to threaten and intimidate, but a bit of notice might have been nice. He'd been working on his body guard pose and everything. A mute body guard might have a completely different mind-set. This shit was important, not that Alec would know about constructing a freaking grift.
When he managed to get hold of him later (after they'd rescued him from the damn Russians), Eliot had pinned him to a wall and demanded to know just what he thought he was doing.
"Watching you grift is better than watching Sophie." he had answered. "She enjoys it too much. You? You live it. It's art, man, angsty, twisted art. I was just trying t'... y'know shape it. You know me, I'm an artist."
Honestly... Eliot couldn't help but be just a little flattered. That didn't mean he was going to forgive him for the whole Iceman thing any time soon, though. Or let him forget that he needed rescuing. Again. Nope, that was gonna take a whole lot more than flattery.