Close the Door, Pull the Shades - Part Six, Leverage, NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: Leverage
Title: Close the Door, Pull the Shades - Part Six(Story Index)
Pairing/Characters: Nate/Eliot, Hardison, Parker, Sophie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3554
Summary: Nate and Eliot have some issues to work out, if they can ever get past themselves to communicate in any meaningful way.

A/Ns & Warnings: This is, as is becoming usual, havenward's fault. Although it started with merry_gentry's first vampire!Nate prompt on comment_fic. thus, this is a vampire!Nate fic. As such, this will include biting and some blood play. It will be a rather dom!Nate in places, but certainly not a sub!Eliot in the traditional sense. Apparently this fic has taken over my brain. I've written close to 15000 words since I started on this. That number includes tidbits that were posted to comment_fic but have not yet made it into the bigger story.




"I'm telling you, Nate, I'm alright."

"No." Nate pushes on Eliot's good shoulder, the one not just above three broken ribs, to keep him in the hospital bed. "You're not alright Eliot. You have to rest.

"I feel fine." Eliot insists, trying to peel the blankets back.

"I know you do, but you're not." Nate sits on the side of the bed to hold the blankets down and captures Eliot's hands. "I know you may feel invincible right now, but you're not."

Nate lifts a hand to touch his sunburned face and for a change, Eliot doesn't pull away. "That's just what a dose of vampire blood does to you. You need to let your body heal." He doesn't tell Eliot that he's given him just a little more of his own blood, doesn't tell him he's sending the others away. Marquez is still too close for comfort and they'd hurt him, crippled his business, but he's still a vampire, still stronger than any mark they've ever felled before.

"What about you?" Eliot asks after a long while, his hand soothing along Nate's arm.

Nate smiles softly. "I'm good. Parker and Hardison found me some blood to get me on my feet again."

Eliot's hands find Nate's, turning them over to check on the burns that are slowly healing. He needs to feed more, and they both know it, but what he wants most he can't have just yet, so he'll wait.

"You're not invincible either." Eliot says as if sensing the thought. "Have Parker get you more."

"If you promise to stay in bed until the doctor says you can get up."

Eliot's smile is a welcome sight. "Deal." The smile dims a little and he pulls his hand out of Nate's.

Nate frowns, not sure what he's thinking now. "What?"

Eliot shakes his head. "Not important."

"It is if I say it is." Nate responds, his hand on Eliot's thigh.

Eliot crosses his arms and fidgets, but he's promised not to get up and he's got nowhere to escape, so he huffs and glowers while Nate waits patiently. "Marquez." Eliot says finally, biting at his lip.

Nate nods slowly. "What about him?"

"It ain't over."

Nate knows that isn't what he really means to say, but nods again. "No, it isn't. He'll come looking for us."

Eliot's eyes dance away. "Me," he corrects. He clears his throat. "He'll come looking for me." Whether he means to or not, Eliot's hand slides over the bandage on his neck, his eyes closing.

Nate forces himself to stay still, forces the cool coil of anger in his stomach to stay tightly locked down. Because Eliot isn't wrong. Marquez had gotten a taste and he would come looking for the rest, even if he didn't want revenge for the rest as well.

He lets his hand cup to Eliot's face, tender, his thumb caressing over the bruised cheekbone. "Hey, I told you, it's natural." Because the guilt is pounding through Eliot and Nate can taste it. "Not your fault." Nate can almost see the thought in Eliot's head, when Marquez bit him and he became aroused.

Eliot's eyes close and his face flushes even redder. "I didn't mean it. Didn't want to."

"I know." Nate's words are soft, despite the image in his mind of Eliot in that vampire's hands, the scent of Eliot's blood as Marquez bit into him, the arousal Nate could taste on the air. "It happens. It's a part of how we've survived, Eliot. It's how we subdue our victims long enough to drain them."

Nate closes the distance between them and brushes his lips along Eliot's forehead. "I'm not angry about that."

"But you are angry." Eliot says, and it isn't a question.

"Yes, I am." Nate agrees, tilting Eliot's face up so he can kiss his chapped lips. "I'm angry that I led us into that situation, that I let you go out there at all, that Marquez got away, that he touched you at all…but not that."

"Well I am." Eliot pulls away, huffs again. "I shouldn't be so…easy."

"You're anything but easy Eliot." Nate soothes, but he can see that Eliot isn't ready for that. "I should let you get some sleep. I'll be out there if you need me."



Nate closes the door and exhales slowly. "Hardison?"

"Behind you." It's Parker's voice though and Nate turns, still surprised that the nimble thief can sneak up on him sometimes. In her hands is the same small cooler Hardison had given him the night before. Hardison is with her, still hanging back a bit.

Parker hands over the cooler. "We'll sit with him if you want to go have your lunch in private."

Nate thanks her with a smile. "I'm not ready just yet, but thank you." His eyes flick to Hardison. "Marquez?"

Hardison fidgets until Parker elbows him in the ribs. "I don't know." Hardison says finally. "He's…gone."

Nate shakes his head. "No. He's out there. And he's going to be coming for Eliot. We have to find him."

"I've got all of his aliases, that we know about, covered. If he surfaces, I'll know it."

"Not good enough, Hardison." Nate set the cooler down and paced. "He's got to have had something hidden away, money we didn't find. He's somewhere, and I'm guessing not far. Any way he can track our aliases back to us?"

Hardison shakes his head. "No. No way. The hotel was booked with IDs we've never used, we ditched cell phones. You're the only one he really interacted with…so I only had to sever the Antony alias from you."

"What about Sophie? The security cameras at the bank?"

"Pulled and replaced." Parker says with a grin. "They won't even know it happened."

Nate shakes his head. Marquez wasn't going to let go that easily.

"Nate, we got it covered, relax. Sophie's already on a plane out of here. Parker and I go this afternoon. You and Eliot follow when he's ready to fly. We won't see this guy again."

"You don't understand." Nate snaps, then holds up his hand to ease the sting, because Hardison really didn't understand and that wasn't his fault. "He bit Eliot."

Parker's eyes got big and her mouth formed a surprised "O" but Hardison just shook his head. "So what? Now you have to kill him? Because he touched your boy?"

Parker elbows him again and Hardison steps back. "Why you gotta keep doing that?"

Parker shakes her head, rolling her eyes at Nate before turning to Hardison. "For a smart boy you sure can be dumb." Parker turns to Hardison, grabbing his shoulders. "Remember what I said before? Once a vamp's got a taste of you, he either kills you or keeps you."

"Yeah, I heard what you said." Hardison frowns down at her. "No offense, but you were talking about vampires like they were real at the time, I wasn't following you."

Nate growls, frustration growing. He steps in close so he can keep his voice low. "Once a vampire has fed off a live victim, if they don't kill the person, they crave more. It can become an obsession, that's why Marquez was doing such a booming business in slaves. He sold them to vampires…and they'd keep them for years before they wore them out or got bored, or couldn't resist the temptation to just take it all."

"Okay, so it's like coke for vampires." Hardison says, nodding, then shaking his head.

"More than that, we form a connection of sorts." Nate explains, wishing he didn't have to. "I could find Eliot anywhere."

"Like some super-stalker thing? Okay, now that? Is all kind of twisted."

"Smell, you idiot." Parker says, crossing her arms. "He can smell Eliot, and now so can Marquez."

It went well beyond smell, Nate knows, but he doesn't correct her. Hardison is uncomfortable enough with what he knows now, any more would make the geek's head explode. Even here in the hallway, Nate can feel Eliot's heart, knows each beat, knows he's not really asleep by the way the rhythm speeds up just a little every time Nate speaks.

"I need to get Eliot out of the country, while you three find Marquez." Nate says abruptly, the solution suddenly obvious. He would take Eliot out of Marquez's range, they could spend some time regaining their strength and exploring exactly where this thing between them was going to go, and when Marquez turned up, Nate would see that he never touched another living thing again.

"Out of the country?"

"London." Nate nods. London's a good place to lay low for a while. "Work us both up some new identities, something low key. Get us on a plane tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. Just like that." Hardison snaps his fingers with a wobble of his head.

"Is there a problem?" Nate asks and Hardison swallows.

"Lot of work, 's all. Not a lot of time."

"Then I suggest you get busy." Nate suggests, holding back the grin until Hardison has decided he really should leave.

"You shouldn't torment him." Parker says in the silence following Hardison's exit. "He's trying. You kinda rocked his reality a little."

"But not yours." Nate turns to her now, the first chance he's had alone with her since his little revelation.

"Like I said, I know Genevieve."

"You said, but never expounded."

Nate settles into a chair outside Eliot's room, next to the cooler. Parker crosses her arms and thinks about how to answer. "I met her in Moscow…and we hit it off."

He nods. He could see Genevieve being taken by the petite blond. Intrigued by her. "She caught you trying to steal something. And let you live to tell the tale."

Parker nods and shrugs a little. "We talk sometimes. I helped her out a few years ago…she told me a few things about vampires."

"And you've picked up a few more since then." He lifts the cooler and considers finding a dark closet to feed in. "You know, this thing with Eliot…I never meant for it to be like this. I never wanted to do this to anyone."

She nods and drops into a chair opposite him. "I know. She was the same way. Sometimes though…things happen. I know you'll take good care of him." Her eyes narrow. There's a vague threat there, as much as Nate can be threatened by a tiny woman.

"Yes, I will."

"Go on. You look hungry."


"You know, this thing with Eliot…I never meant for it to be like this. I never wanted to do this to anyone."

Eliot hears the words as though Nate were in the room with him, hears the ache in them…ache to take it all back, to go back to that moment when Eliot offered himself to save a mark from dying.

He'd thought he was doing a good thing, keeping Nate from killing someone, knowing how much it would eat at him after it was done. He'd thought getting Nate past whatever hurdle still existed between them would bring them closer, and now Eliot sees that all he's done is compound the problem.

Now three men were dead and Nate had the weight of that on his conscience and really, it's Eliot's fault. If he hadn't dragged Nate into this…

The door opens and the nurse enters, a new IV bag on her tray along with a syringe. They don't talk as she changes out the bag, then adds the pain meds in the syringe. He doesn't argue, though he doesn't really need them and a few minutes later, Eliot drifts off to sleep.


"Have I ever told you I hate London?" Eliot asks as they clear through customs.

Nate scowls at him. "No. Why would you hate London?"

"Food sucks, it rains all the time."

Nate grins at that, putting a hand on Eliot's hip to pull him close. "All the more reason to stay inside."

Eliot rolls his eyes, but can't hide his grin. "You brought me to London just so we can hide in a hotel and fuck?"

"It's called vacation, Eliot. Relax, enjoy it."

"Right. Vacation. Not 'get Elliot out of the country while Hardison finds Marquez'?"

"Well, it serves that purpose too. If it makes you feel better, we can go find a pub and see if you can pick a fight…but not until you're a hundred percent."

Eliot huffs in frustration, but he'd promised Nate a week. A week of just the two of them. No cons, no marks, no team. No worrying about Marquez. No arguing over things that they couldn't change.

Just the two of them and a week of nothing to do. Eliot grins as Nate's hand skims over his denim clad ass. Well, nothing to do but each other.

Hardison's got them booked into the presidential suite in one of the city's high end hotels, registered as Dr. Larry Dillon and his partner, Marcus Carter and despite Eliot's misgivings about the entire thing, he's impressed as they arrive and a flurry of activity sweeps them through check in and up to their suite where dinner is already laid out, a bottle of wine opened on the table.

Eliot lets Nate tip the bellboy while he wanders over to check out the bedroom and it's king sized bed he almost needs a stool to get up onto. By the time he emerges, Nate is pouring wine and gesturing at the table. "I promise it won't suck."

Eliot sticks a finger in Nate's belt loop and pulls him in until their bodies are touching. "As long as you do," he responds, with his voice low.

Nate chuckles and wraps his arms around Eliot. "In more ways than one."

It's been days now since Nate had fed on him in any real way. Eliot doesn't count the two times in the desert because that hadn't been enough, not by any stretch of the imagination. He feels a stab of guilt, something that's been happening a lot in the last few days, and pulls away. "So, lets eat."

"Eliot…" Nate knows something is bothering him, even though he works to hide it. But part of the deal that got Eliot here was that Nate would give him some space, that they wouldn't dig at the assorted scabs. So, Nate drops the subject and slides into his chair. "Okay. Lets eat."

The silence between them is awkward for a few minutes. Eliot digs into his steak, trying to bring his mind out of the spiral of self-accusation and back to the part where they were going to spend seven days exploring the physical limits of vampire/human relations.

He's horny as all hell, a left over side effect of the blood Nate had given him to help save his life after the thing with the gang in Phoenix…which feels like a lifetime ago, but really has only been about a week, and even though Eliot had jumped Nate in the bathroom at the airport in NY, that had been a day ago.

The more he thinks about that, the hotter he gets, his cock hard. Finally, he puts down his fork and risks a glance at Nate, only to find he's staring at Eliot.

"So, since you made me promise not to ask what's going on in that head of yours, is this the part where we say fuck the food, lets just fuck?" Nate asks, lifting his wine glass to drain off the last of it.

Eliot shoves away the guilt, the questions and nods, letting the need pull him out of his chair.

Nate pulls back from the table, but before he can get up, Eliot is straddling his lap, rubbing their cocks together. "My turn." Eliot growls.

"I thought it was your turn at the airport." Nate's hands hold his waist, trying to keep him from rubbing them together so fast.

"Still my turn." Eliot amends. "Want to do it here."

"At the dinner table?" Nate seems amused. "You're going to need to get out of your pants then."

"Naw." Eliot reaches for Nate's unused steak knife, twirling it in his fingers before reaching behind him with it and using the tip to rip into his well worn jeans, pulling the blade down the seam. "They're old…was going to get rid of them anyway." Eliot nips at Nate's lips as he tosses the knife back on the table and reaches for the butter instead. Nate's eyebrow goes up as Eliot reaches behind himself with his fingertips full of butter, rubbing it over and into his hole before he uses slick, buttery fingers to undo Nate's pants.

His fingers slip and slide over Nate's hardening cock, lubing him up with the butter before Eliot is lifting up, Nate's hands steadying him as he guides Nate's cock to his ass. The first breach stings, because damn it's been a while, but Nate grabs his elbows and Eliot leans back, shifting the angle and settling his feet against the window sill behind Nate.

He pulls back, then pushes down, earning a deep groan from Nate that makes him try harder, pull more sound from him. The chair rocks with his movement, until Nate lifts up, sending them to the floor with Eliot under him and he's leaving bruises under his fingers as he lets go of Eliot's arms and grabs his hip, up under the t-shirt.

It burns when Nate steps up the pace, filling him, making his whole body rock against the floor and he's grateful for the clothes keeping his back from rug burn. His own cock is trapped inside his jeans, pressing against the zipper and he reaches for it but Nate captures his hand.

"Uh-uh. My turn."

Nate shoves into him deep, hard, coming inside Eliot as he lifts Eliot's hand, nuzzles along the wrist and without warning, bites, pulling several mouthfuls of blood out of Eliot.

Eliot yells, bucking up as he comes, panting as he eases slowly back to the floor. Nate licks lightly at the wound, though his thumb is pressing just north of it to stop the flow of blood. Eliot presses his wrist up at Nate, offering more, but Nate shakes his head. "We've got seven days, Eliot…a little pacing might be good."



There are different levels of stupid and judging from the level of pain and the amount of blood, Eliot maybe found a whole new one, especially if the look in Nate's face is any indication. But damn he's having a good time.

Eliot slams his fist home into some guy's face and drops him, just before Nate's hand is in his hair, dragging him away from the carnage.

"What the hell was that?" Nate asks as he pushes Eliot up against the wall outside the pub where the brawl raged on.

Eliot knows better than to move, because Nate's pissed and Eliot's still bleeding from the knife he didn't quite twist away from as he shoved Nate out of the way. "Most people say thank you when someone saves their life."

Nate uses his fistful of hair to pull Eliot's head back. "I'm not most people.". His kiss is rough, possessive and Eliot accepts it for the chastisement that it is. "I heal faster and I've had enough of watching you get hurt."

"It's nothing, barely a scratch." Eliot gasps as Nate's mouth leaves his and travels south to where the shirt is ripped open. His lips find the contours of the slash, his tongue moving through it, and when he pulls back there's a look on his face filled with lust and hunger and it makes Eliot's cock hard to watch.

"I'd fuck you up against this wall, if I wasn't worried you'd end up with an infection." Nate growls, his eyes starting to darken.

"So take me home and tape me up first." Eliot counters, grabbing a fistful of Nate's hair to pull him in, his kiss hungry and needy.

"Beginning to think maybe I should stick you in a fucking cage…at least that way I know you won't go getting yourself killed." Nate yanks on him, getting them moving in the direction of the hotel.

"Like to see you try." Eliot counters, slipping away from Nate and grinning. "Ain't a jail yet that can keep me, Nate."

Nate growls and catches him as they get to the elevator, pulling him and pushing the shirt up to get a better look now that they have light. Eliot lets him look for a minute, then pushes away. "It's a scratch. Bloody, but fine." Eliot insists, letting Nate pull him from the elevator and into the suit. He pulls the shirt off as they get inside, knowing Nate will insist on cleaning it immediately.

"Seriously, they can't kill me Eliot. They can kill you though. And that would make me very angry."

Eliot nods once, but doesn't get a chance to respond as movement near the window tells him someone else is in the room. He takes a defensive stand, pulling Nate closer.

The woman turns from the balcony doors, a fake smile on her otherwise pretty face. She's all business in a gray suit, red hair pulled back impeccably. "Mr. Nathan Ford. You are one difficult man to find."