All kinds of cocky responses to Eliot showing up out of the blue run through his mind when he steps through the door and towards his ... Lover, really. Days long gone, a past he loves dwelling in. Damien forces a smug grin onto his face as he greets the other man. The coldness in Eliots eyes almost hurts, but then ... They always did have a strange way of showing their affection. He knows that one for sure.
"He prefers beer" Damien hears himself say. He finds it hard to focus, finds it almost impossible to turn his gaze away from Eliot. All that talking about the ram's horn, about foreighn buyers and trust - he doesn't really think. Damien is far away, back to the days when Eliot did work for him. Long gone. Over and done with. But still.
He firmly presses the weapon against Eliots temple.
"Don't you move." His voice is husky and rough. Shattered glass gives a grinding sound under the soles of his shoes when he takes a tiny step to move in closer. Pressing the body of the other man firmly against the wall.
"Wouldn't have a reason to move anyway, would I?" Eliot replies. He doesn't flinch. He never does. No matter how hard Damien hits him, how rough it gets. Clear blue eyes stare back at him. Always.
Damien lets go of the gun and throws it over his shoulder. He leans in to kiss Eliot hard.
And again he watches him. Walking out the door. Damien shakes off the memories of their weird and rough relationship. The games he played today, the smug grin, the obvious distance, the little, almost harsh words against Eliot ... All of it an expression of his love for the other man. He still loved him, even though he walked out the door again.
Only this time Eliot had not responded to his hidden affection in any way.