The Future Worship
This is Hardison and Eliot all over her. They haven’t fucked her yet, either one of them, and they probably won’t. Fucking would make it about them, and lots of times it can be about one of them, or all three together, but this time it’s not. This time it’s about her.
Instead of fucking her, Eliot kisses her knee. He says “I’ll take a sledgehammer to it, he’ll never walk pain free again.”
Instead of fucking her Hardison plays with her hands. He pulls off from sucking her finger to say “one thousand paper cuts, babe. We’ll hold out his hand and slice again and again until he’s more cuts than skin.”
Instead of fucking her Eliot bites her thigh and says “I’ll tie wet leather cords right here.”
They won’t do any of it, because Nate has a plan. Tara will be a fake psychic and they’ll discredit him, and he’ll never tell another lie about the dead to hurt the living. But it’s still nice to think about.
The Studio Worship
“What? No. Goddamn it Hardison, that is not happening, don’t put ideas into her head.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Because if I hear the word ‘pitchy’ one more time I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”
“Come on man, don’t you want to sing out your orgasm?”
“This isn’t Glee, idiot.”
Hardison drops to his knees. Eliot can sense it, can hear it, even if he refuses to dignify Hardison by looking back at him. Parker is crouching in front of him. It’s oddly synchronized, how their hands start pulling down his jeans simultaneously, like someone’s still on the comms telling them what to do. But of course there isn’t. Nate would never put up with this.
“We know you could have gone with her,” Parker says, hot breath exhaling on his cock.
“No I couldn’t have.” What he said was true. He’s on a road that doesn’t allow for country star pit-stops.
“We’re glad you didn’t. And we want you to sing,” Parker continues, trying her best to show feelings.
Hardison’s not all that much better with “I’m gonna keep my mouth on you until you sing. One orgasm, five aching coming clear, coming dry spent dick orgasms, whatever. However much it takes.”
They’re not trying to break him, Eliot knows. They’re trying to show him. He’s still not gonna sing until Hardison’s rimmed him at least twice. It’s the principle of it.
The Last Dam Worship
“We know, man,” Eliot says with what passes with him for sympathy. Not that it’ll last long. It never does.
Hardison sighs, repeating himself because it just has to be said. “I hate Chaos.”
“That’s the point.” Case and point, already prickly again.
“But it’s not fair. Sophie gets a friend, Parker gets a father figure, you get a guy you’re completely neutral towards, and I get the guy that I wouldn’t ask to douse me with water if I was on fire. I’d literally rather die in a fire.”
Parker drops from the rough hewn ceiling. Hardison has no idea how, but he doesn’t bother to ask that kind of question any more. He’s dating two very good sneakers. “You need to remember three things. One, it’s what we have to do to get Latimer back. Two, Dubenich walked away without paying, the most heinous of crimes. Three, Chaos is sleeping here and we can go have really loud sex where we don’t shut up about your awesome arms and cock and abs and he feels inferior.”
Eliot smirks. “Don’t you want blueballed Chaos to know what a great cock you have?”
“Actually, yes. That would be fantastic.” Hardison doesn’t even have the words for how great that would be.
The Broken Wing Worship
No one replies so Parker tries again. “Booooored.”
Parker throws a pretzel at Eliot’s eye. Eliot bats it out of the way before it hits him, of course, but at least now he’s paying attention. “I thought it would be less boring with you two at home, but it’s really not. Do you think there’s more criminals in the brew pub yet?”
“No. Hardison rechecked the employees pasts.”
“Hey! Amy was not my fault. How was I supposed to know that we’d have a diplomatic incident?”
“Fine. But she made a good thief. You think I should teach more waitresses to become thieves?”
“Then someone give me something to do here!” Parker throws a pretzel at Hardison, who does not dodge in time.
“Come. You know what? Your task is coming. I’m going to go down on you for an hour. Hardison, time me. Tape it if you want.”
“Tape? Tape, sir? How dare you!”
“You know what I mean.” He turns back to her and kneels. “I’m going to eat you out forever, and you’ll feel so much pleasure you won’t even feel your knee. And then you’ll pass out and stop being so freakin’ annoying!”
The Post Long Goodbye Worship
“Guess how popular we are!”
“Hello Parker,” he answers calmly. Saying her name brings Sophie over. She’s just as invested in these calls as he is. Nate puts the phone on speaker rather than force her to press her head against his. She’ll be upset if she doesn’t catch every word.
“A whole bunch of people want to have Eliot’s babies. And Hardison’s babies. And my babies, which is weird because in a stranger and me situation I’d be having the babies.”
Eliot growls, which is proof enough of some of the more salacious comments. Nate can’t help but wonder if anyone will be getting a pointed package in the mail.
“The code word was trending on twitter. Every one of those hackers knew it was stupid, commenting on a publicly traded company platform, but they just couldn’t help themselves.” Nate can hear the pride in Hardison’s voice. It’s good. He’s earned it. He’s been earning it since the day he agreed to help set up shop in Portland.
“Babies, Nate! And other things. Soooo many people are into being body slaves. It’s such a waste because we’re already dating each other. Wait. Did you already know that? I can’t remember if we told you that me and Eliot and Hardison are having a lot of really great sex. But that’s not the point. The point is that we’re like gods! Sexy sexy thief gods.”
“I can’t say you told us,” Sophie begins after a moment of silence, “but congratulations! And I’m glad the Cloud Job worked out so well for you.”
“This Canadian girl helped us work a job,” Eliot offers gruffly. He more than the other two try to make it subtly clear that there’s always room for them to come back, if they want. Nate can’t begrudge them the occasional outsourcing.
“Tell us more about that,” he answers. One day he might- he and his wife might get restless and come back. For now though, let them enjoy the glory. Them feeling loved and needed was always Plan A, after all.