Fic: Long Process
Jan. 29th, 2011 12:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunspotTitle: Long Process
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer/Parker
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 960
Warnings: Written with 3x15 in mind, but nothing explicitly spoiler-ish.
Summary: Learning to forgive one's self is a very long process.
Author's Notes: Written for 5 Acts, January 2011. Beta'd by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maskedfangirl. <3
Sometimes, it all seemed like too much. Sometimes, the weight was too heavy, the memories were too strong, the self-loathing was too overwhelming.
Sometimes, he was a melodramatic fuck and he hated himself for it.
Eliot turned away from his reflection in the glass cupboard door, lest he become more histrionic and do something he'd regret later.
"You're doing it again," Parker said from the other side of the counter. Eliot didn't want to know what she was referring to. Every so often he got the feeling she understood a lot more than she let on about what went on inside his head. He found it unsettling.
"I'm not doing anything, Parker." He turned to leave.
"Hardison, he's doing it again."
Hardison leaned in the doorway, blocking the way. Eliot sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Okay, what am I doing?"
Parker slid through the space between the counter and the overhanging cupboard, landing on her toes next to Eliot and taking his hand in one motion. "You're angry. I don't know what about. At yourself, I think."
Eliot looked between her and Hardison, trying to piece together what exactly they were playing at. In the doorway, a small smile was playing at the corners of Hardison's mouth. It was faraway, almost sad in its own right.
"It's a long process," Hardison said, and his voice was much quieter than normal. "Forgiving yourself, I mean."
Parker was twining her fingers in Eliot's and Eliot was letting her, but when Hardison spoke, the words went right through him, touched something inside him he didn't want to acknowledge. Parker stopped fidgeting and flicked her eyes between the both. There was an extra layer of meaning going on right then that she was missing out on.
"What do you know about that?" Eliot asked him, feeling jaded and sad and foolish and hopeful all at once.
Hardison pushed himself off the door frame with an easy motion. "I know it's a long process. I know it's something you have to do by yourself. I also know there's a lot of waiting time in between where you don't have to be so alone."
"Is this one of those times?" Parker thought she was maybe catching on.
They ended up in bed, like they did no matter what else was going on. Parker always insisted on the lights being off; no one knew why or wanted to. Indulging her was far too easy.
Eliot was not remotely surprised to find himself on his back and completely at the mercy of his bedfellows. Something about the combination of Parker and Hardison together always undid him. He was powerless against them.
Parker was sucking his cock like it was her job and Hardison was doing something unfathomable just out of sight above him, stroking his fingers through Eliot's hair and across his shoulders.
Eliot tried to think, tried to form a word to ask Hardison why he wasn't involving himself further, or to ask Parker where the hell she'd learned to that twisting finger trick that made him crawl out of his skin with pleasure, but he found it was taking all his presence of mind to just keep breathing. He was losing track of the seconds and the minutes and his lungs were burning when he forgot to breath for unknown, unmeasured stretches of time.
He felt all the air torn from his lips, gasping and choking around words that were halfway between a curse and a benediction. Eliot reached out blindly for Parker, his hand landing on her shoulder and staying there. He felt her laugh around him and tap her fingers against his hip reassuringly.
Just when he thought he'd thought he sorted himself out enough to be able to keep breathing without forgetting how again, Hardison started toying with the chain around his neck.
Eliot didn't think they even noticed when he was wearing it, like it was one of the parts that faded into the background. Of course, nothing really faded into the background when it concerned Eliot, and Hardison and Parker had both noticed the shift in his moods since he'd dug the tags out of a box and started wearing them in the last few days.
Hardison's fingers traced the outline of the dog tag hiding under Eliot's shirt, and he seemed about to say something, but changed his mind at the last moment. Eliot squeezed Parker's shoulder a little harder, getting closer and closer, and when he tried to twist away from Hardison's curious fingers, he ended up pressing his face into Hardison's thigh. Eliot kissed warm skin and found he was filled with gratitude for the quiet kind of acceptance Hardison offered.
Eliot closed his eyes as he came, letting Parker do that twisting thing with her hand again and not caring what he might get messy in the process. He let himself drift in and out for few moments, feeling his breathing slowing and hearing Hardison and Parker moving around him and whispering to each other. It was a close, warm feeling, with the three of them in the bed, and Eliot was content to let them do whatever they wanted, provided they didn't want him to talk about his feelings.
"Are you better now?"
Parker's face was hovering two inches from his face when he opened his eyes. To his credit, he didn't flinch or karate chop her in the throat; he was used to this sort of personal space intrusion from her by now. Hardison was sprawled out along his other side, one hand ghosting softly up his leg with his lips pressed to Eliot's skin.
"It's a long process," Eliot muttered, kissing her softly. He felt Hardison grin against his arm. "But having you both around helps."
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer/Parker
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 960
Warnings: Written with 3x15 in mind, but nothing explicitly spoiler-ish.
Summary: Learning to forgive one's self is a very long process.
Author's Notes: Written for 5 Acts, January 2011. Beta'd by
maskedfangirl. <3Sometimes, it all seemed like too much. Sometimes, the weight was too heavy, the memories were too strong, the self-loathing was too overwhelming.
Sometimes, he was a melodramatic fuck and he hated himself for it.
Eliot turned away from his reflection in the glass cupboard door, lest he become more histrionic and do something he'd regret later.
"You're doing it again," Parker said from the other side of the counter. Eliot didn't want to know what she was referring to. Every so often he got the feeling she understood a lot more than she let on about what went on inside his head. He found it unsettling.
"I'm not doing anything, Parker." He turned to leave.
"Hardison, he's doing it again."
Hardison leaned in the doorway, blocking the way. Eliot sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Okay, what am I doing?"
Parker slid through the space between the counter and the overhanging cupboard, landing on her toes next to Eliot and taking his hand in one motion. "You're angry. I don't know what about. At yourself, I think."
Eliot looked between her and Hardison, trying to piece together what exactly they were playing at. In the doorway, a small smile was playing at the corners of Hardison's mouth. It was faraway, almost sad in its own right.
"It's a long process," Hardison said, and his voice was much quieter than normal. "Forgiving yourself, I mean."
Parker was twining her fingers in Eliot's and Eliot was letting her, but when Hardison spoke, the words went right through him, touched something inside him he didn't want to acknowledge. Parker stopped fidgeting and flicked her eyes between the both. There was an extra layer of meaning going on right then that she was missing out on.
"What do you know about that?" Eliot asked him, feeling jaded and sad and foolish and hopeful all at once.
Hardison pushed himself off the door frame with an easy motion. "I know it's a long process. I know it's something you have to do by yourself. I also know there's a lot of waiting time in between where you don't have to be so alone."
"Is this one of those times?" Parker thought she was maybe catching on.
They ended up in bed, like they did no matter what else was going on. Parker always insisted on the lights being off; no one knew why or wanted to. Indulging her was far too easy.
Eliot was not remotely surprised to find himself on his back and completely at the mercy of his bedfellows. Something about the combination of Parker and Hardison together always undid him. He was powerless against them.
Parker was sucking his cock like it was her job and Hardison was doing something unfathomable just out of sight above him, stroking his fingers through Eliot's hair and across his shoulders.
Eliot tried to think, tried to form a word to ask Hardison why he wasn't involving himself further, or to ask Parker where the hell she'd learned to that twisting finger trick that made him crawl out of his skin with pleasure, but he found it was taking all his presence of mind to just keep breathing. He was losing track of the seconds and the minutes and his lungs were burning when he forgot to breath for unknown, unmeasured stretches of time.
He felt all the air torn from his lips, gasping and choking around words that were halfway between a curse and a benediction. Eliot reached out blindly for Parker, his hand landing on her shoulder and staying there. He felt her laugh around him and tap her fingers against his hip reassuringly.
Just when he thought he'd thought he sorted himself out enough to be able to keep breathing without forgetting how again, Hardison started toying with the chain around his neck.
Eliot didn't think they even noticed when he was wearing it, like it was one of the parts that faded into the background. Of course, nothing really faded into the background when it concerned Eliot, and Hardison and Parker had both noticed the shift in his moods since he'd dug the tags out of a box and started wearing them in the last few days.
Hardison's fingers traced the outline of the dog tag hiding under Eliot's shirt, and he seemed about to say something, but changed his mind at the last moment. Eliot squeezed Parker's shoulder a little harder, getting closer and closer, and when he tried to twist away from Hardison's curious fingers, he ended up pressing his face into Hardison's thigh. Eliot kissed warm skin and found he was filled with gratitude for the quiet kind of acceptance Hardison offered.
Eliot closed his eyes as he came, letting Parker do that twisting thing with her hand again and not caring what he might get messy in the process. He let himself drift in and out for few moments, feeling his breathing slowing and hearing Hardison and Parker moving around him and whispering to each other. It was a close, warm feeling, with the three of them in the bed, and Eliot was content to let them do whatever they wanted, provided they didn't want him to talk about his feelings.
"Are you better now?"
Parker's face was hovering two inches from his face when he opened his eyes. To his credit, he didn't flinch or karate chop her in the throat; he was used to this sort of personal space intrusion from her by now. Hardison was sprawled out along his other side, one hand ghosting softly up his leg with his lips pressed to Eliot's skin.
"It's a long process," Eliot muttered, kissing her softly. He felt Hardison grin against his arm. "But having you both around helps."
