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phantismaFandom: Leverage (Vamp!Nate verse)
Title: The Truth or Dare Job, Part Six (Index to Vamp!Nate: Index)
Pairings/Characters: Nate/Eliot/Hardison
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 780
Summary: Hardison comes home to the calm after the storm.
A/Ns & Summary: Sixth chapter of a 25 chapter arc, for my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
angst_bingo card, found here. For the prompt "bruises".
The house was quiet.
Hardison listened for a long minute before he took the bags to the kitchen. He unloaded the blood first, two bags he’d gotten from a connection at the blood bank, plus a large container of pigs blood from the butcher. He set those on the counter, then pulled out the steaks, shoving those in the fridge for later.
He sighed and took off his jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair before rolling up his sleeves and going back to the counter.
He was full, uncomfortably so, actually, having eaten twice since he left, loading up on both protein and carbs, anticipating that the blood in the cartons wasn’t going to be enough.
Not with the way Eliot looked before he left.
He pulled two large mugs from the cupboard and the kitchen scissors from the drawer. He snipped the first bag of blood and dumped it into a mug, then did the same with the other. He opened the pigs blood and poured some into each mug, stirring it with the blade of the scissors.
Hardison dumped the scissors in the sink and grabbed the two mugs, heading down the hall toward the gym. The door opened as he approached, revealing a bruised and bloody Nate.
Eliot was asleep on the floor as Hardison entered the room, handing the first mug of blood to Nate, who sniffed it and nodded appreciatively. “You’re getting rather good at this.”
“I do not want to think about that.” Hardison said, letting his eyes wander over the bruises. Any cuts or wounds there might have been had closed, so the blood was whatever had gotten smeared while they fought through whatever it was they were fighting through. “You look like shit.”
Nate smirked, then sipped at the blood. “Yeah, but I’m betting he’s feeling better.”
Hardison turned to look. If Nate was bruised and bloody, Eliot was worse. The bruises on his face were bad, but nothing compared to the ones on his chest and even on his thigh. “You didn’t do that…”
Nate shook his head. “No, I suspect those are from a number of things, and they’ll heal.” He cocked his head as if listening. “Where’s Ryna?”
“Oh, I left her with Sophie. She’ll be home in about an hour. I wanted to make sure the two of you hadn’t killed each other.”
Eliot was starting to stir.
“I’m going to go shower. Thanks for this.” Nate left Hardison there, disappearing out the door.
Hardison crossed to the bench beside where Eliot lay, sitting a little nervously. Eliot opened an eye, squinting. “Hardison?”
“Brought you something, man.” He held out the mug as Eliot sat up, wincing a little.
Eliot took it, sniffing and making a face. “I know,” he muttered even though Hardison said nothing. He drank the whole thing in one long drink, wiping his mouth with his free hand when he was done.
“You okay?” Hardison asked. He couldn’t stop his knee from bouncing as he fought the urge to run. He got like that any time he was faced with what Eliot had become. He couldn’t help the way it terrified him sometimes.
But only sometimes…because there was no denying that other times it was…hot.
Eliot shifted, reaching with one hand to disentangle his feet from the pants still hanging off them. There was a long bruise down one calf and Hardison instinctively leaned in for a better look.
Eliot pushed him back and straightened the pants out, setting the mug down and standing to pull the pants up. "I'm fine, Hardison, stop hovering."
"Is that what I'm doing?" Hardison asked, standing himself now.
"I don't know. What are you doing?" Eliot asked, squinting at him.
Hardison inhaled slowly and licked his lips. He was in this now. Stuck between a vampire and whatever the hell they were going to call Eliot. As much as the thought terrified him, he knew he had to make it work, and if Nate could be the one Eliot beat the shit out of, Hardison could be the one to make it better when it was over. He lifted a hand, brushing a finger along the bruise that dusted Eliot's jaw.
"Just trying to…"
Eliot sort of nodded, like he got it. His hand grabbed the back of Hardison's neck and tugged. His kiss was hot, but didn't have the desperation he remembered from times before. As he pulled away, Hardison tilted his head, offering his neck. "No, I'm okay." Eliot whispered.
Hardison held on to him though. "I'm here if you need me, man."
Eliot pulled back, a small smile on his face. "Thanks."
Title: The Truth or Dare Job, Part Six (Index to Vamp!Nate: Index)
Pairings/Characters: Nate/Eliot/Hardison
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 780
Summary: Hardison comes home to the calm after the storm.
A/Ns & Summary: Sixth chapter of a 25 chapter arc, for my
angst_bingo card, found here. For the prompt "bruises".The house was quiet.
Hardison listened for a long minute before he took the bags to the kitchen. He unloaded the blood first, two bags he’d gotten from a connection at the blood bank, plus a large container of pigs blood from the butcher. He set those on the counter, then pulled out the steaks, shoving those in the fridge for later.
He sighed and took off his jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair before rolling up his sleeves and going back to the counter.
He was full, uncomfortably so, actually, having eaten twice since he left, loading up on both protein and carbs, anticipating that the blood in the cartons wasn’t going to be enough.
Not with the way Eliot looked before he left.
He pulled two large mugs from the cupboard and the kitchen scissors from the drawer. He snipped the first bag of blood and dumped it into a mug, then did the same with the other. He opened the pigs blood and poured some into each mug, stirring it with the blade of the scissors.
Hardison dumped the scissors in the sink and grabbed the two mugs, heading down the hall toward the gym. The door opened as he approached, revealing a bruised and bloody Nate.
Eliot was asleep on the floor as Hardison entered the room, handing the first mug of blood to Nate, who sniffed it and nodded appreciatively. “You’re getting rather good at this.”
“I do not want to think about that.” Hardison said, letting his eyes wander over the bruises. Any cuts or wounds there might have been had closed, so the blood was whatever had gotten smeared while they fought through whatever it was they were fighting through. “You look like shit.”
Nate smirked, then sipped at the blood. “Yeah, but I’m betting he’s feeling better.”
Hardison turned to look. If Nate was bruised and bloody, Eliot was worse. The bruises on his face were bad, but nothing compared to the ones on his chest and even on his thigh. “You didn’t do that…”
Nate shook his head. “No, I suspect those are from a number of things, and they’ll heal.” He cocked his head as if listening. “Where’s Ryna?”
“Oh, I left her with Sophie. She’ll be home in about an hour. I wanted to make sure the two of you hadn’t killed each other.”
Eliot was starting to stir.
“I’m going to go shower. Thanks for this.” Nate left Hardison there, disappearing out the door.
Hardison crossed to the bench beside where Eliot lay, sitting a little nervously. Eliot opened an eye, squinting. “Hardison?”
“Brought you something, man.” He held out the mug as Eliot sat up, wincing a little.
Eliot took it, sniffing and making a face. “I know,” he muttered even though Hardison said nothing. He drank the whole thing in one long drink, wiping his mouth with his free hand when he was done.
“You okay?” Hardison asked. He couldn’t stop his knee from bouncing as he fought the urge to run. He got like that any time he was faced with what Eliot had become. He couldn’t help the way it terrified him sometimes.
But only sometimes…because there was no denying that other times it was…hot.
Eliot shifted, reaching with one hand to disentangle his feet from the pants still hanging off them. There was a long bruise down one calf and Hardison instinctively leaned in for a better look.
Eliot pushed him back and straightened the pants out, setting the mug down and standing to pull the pants up. "I'm fine, Hardison, stop hovering."
"Is that what I'm doing?" Hardison asked, standing himself now.
"I don't know. What are you doing?" Eliot asked, squinting at him.
Hardison inhaled slowly and licked his lips. He was in this now. Stuck between a vampire and whatever the hell they were going to call Eliot. As much as the thought terrified him, he knew he had to make it work, and if Nate could be the one Eliot beat the shit out of, Hardison could be the one to make it better when it was over. He lifted a hand, brushing a finger along the bruise that dusted Eliot's jaw.
"Just trying to…"
Eliot sort of nodded, like he got it. His hand grabbed the back of Hardison's neck and tugged. His kiss was hot, but didn't have the desperation he remembered from times before. As he pulled away, Hardison tilted his head, offering his neck. "No, I'm okay." Eliot whispered.
Hardison held on to him though. "I'm here if you need me, man."
Eliot pulled back, a small smile on his face. "Thanks."
