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Dandelion Jam

Chapter 4

Notes:

🔥TW: talk of sex and related things

Chapter Text

Two weeks till Christmas. Not that Eliot cares -- in fact he tries to think about it as little as possible -- but his partners both get infected with the Christmas spirit this time of year, and it makes them both cheerful. He doesn't actually mind, not really; it's good to see them both happy, and some of it has even rubbed off on him this year (only a tiny bit. Blame the hormones). Which is why, at 9:00am, he's still in bed, stark naked, pajamas in a heap on the floor, pleasantly buzzing with endorphins and seriously considering going back to sleep. He’s never been a morning sex kind of person, but Parker and Hardison can be very difficult to say no to. The shower is filtering white noise in from the next room, the kid is miraculously still asleep, and he's more comfortable than he's been in quite a while. He pulls the comforter up and settles in, and is just starting to doze when he hears the bedroom door open and Parker's footsteps shuffle in. He opens his eyes. His girlfriend, also stark naked, sets two water bottles on the bedside table before lifting the comforter and climbing into bed next to him. He grumbles.

"You're letting the cold air in."

"Mm, good thing I have the perfect antidote to that. C'mere." Parker eels across the bed to Eliot and drapes herself over him, careful to avoid his belly. Eliot heaves a sigh and settles into it. Parker is always warm. Between that, the sound of the shower, and the weight of the comforter, he quickly finds himself drifting into that comfortable grayish space between asleep and awake.

...And then, what feels like only seconds later, he's startled out of it by a horrible wheezing, grating noise that seems to come from everywhere at once. He and Parker both sit bolt upright. Parker, slightly more awake than he is, lunges for the nightstand where the trio's phones are charging. It's Hardison's phone making the racket -- that damn Doctor Who ringtone they can never convince him to change. Parker puts her hand over the speaker, which only slightly muffles it.

"HARDISON!" she yells in the direction of the bathroom, "PHONE!" Hardison appears a moment later, towel-clad from the waist down, and mercifully silences the thing. Eliot burrows back under the comforter as his boyfriend sits on the edge of the bed to take the call, and tries for the third time to get back to sleep.

"...mm-hmm...no, ‘s alright, they’ll understand…I can be there by mid-afternoon…yeah, I’ll bring the specs. Alright, meet you there.”

Eliot props himself up on his elbow. Suddenly he’s wide awake. “Understand what?”

Hardison sighs, turning the phone over in his hands. “I got travel orders. Kennedy space center. Satellite team hit a snag, they need me there.” he says it slowly and haltingly, almost like an admission of guilt. Eliot's sitting up now; he looks to Parker, who's doing the same, then back to Hardison.

"...And you said yes??" Parker beats Eliot to the punch.

"I couldn't exactly say no. They're T-minus six months to launch, that's down to the wire for a project like this."

"Yeah, and I'm T-minus three months to popping out your kid!" Eliot snaps. "Goddammit, Hardison, you could've at least asked us if we minded!"

"I didn't ask 'cause you've been fine with it every other time we've talked about it! What changed?"

Eliot gets out of bed, grabs his nightshirt from the floor and throws it on. "You're supposed to be the genius," he growls, "you tell me."

"Eliot --"

"I'm with him on this one," says Parker, more gently, "last time you went to the Cape you were gone for almost five months straight. What if Eliot goes into labor and you're still down there? You'd be kicking yourself forever if you didn't make it back in time. And that's not a guilt trip, it's a hypothetical," she adds as Hardison opens his mouth to respond. He purses his lips for a moment, tries again.

"Okay, first, this isn't gonna take that long. We're looking at four weeks max, maybe five or six if shit really hits the fan, and I'll have outside communication the whole time so if anything happens, I'll be back here before you can even say 'false alarm'. They'd have to put me in a coma to keep me from being here for you guys and meeting this kid. If there's a setback on the project..." he waves his free hand dismissively, "we'll burn that bridge when we get to it."

"If it's so important for you to be here, then don't go." Eliot's leaning on the bathroom doorframe, clothes bundled under one arm. "I know you told your team, I saw the card they sent you. They'd understand."

Hardison rubs at the back of his neck, stares down at his phone. "...I can't," he says at length. "'s too late for me to back out." he looks up at Eliot. There's apology written all over his face, but knowing him, it's too late to talk him out of it. Eliot growls under his breath, turns on his heel and stalks into the bathroom. He can hear his partners' voices muffled through the wall but doesn't pay it much attention. Instead he drops his clothes by the door and goes through the motions of getting ready for a shower -- grab towel and razor, turn on water, brush teeth. All those nice endorphins from earlier are gone, replaced with a simmering irritation in the pit of his stomach. So much for having a quiet morning.

Suddenly there's a presence behind him. Eliot looks up to see Hardison in the mirror, dressed and standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry," says his boyfriend. Eliot spits into the sink, swishes some water in his mouth.

"I know."

"You know I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't have to."

"I know. I've said my piece and you've made up your mind, there's no point arguing about it."

"But you're still mad."

"I'm not mad, I --" well, maybe a little. More than a little. He turns to face Hardison. "It makes me nervous. This is a big fucking deal, and I need your support. I don't..." he hesitates. Even now, vulnerability still sticks in his throat. "I don't wanna be that far away from you any longer than I have to. Not right now."

Hardison's eyes soften. "You got my support, babe, you know that. Always, 100%. Like I said, I'm not gonna be gone that long; I'll be back in plenty of time."

"You'd better." Eliot takes off his nightshirt and drops it on the floor with his clothes, then gestures to Hardison. "Quit standin' around, you got shit to do if you wanna be there by midday."

Hardison laughs to himself. "I'm goin', I'm goin'."

Once Hardison is out of sight, Eliot pulls back the shower curtain and steps in. He's still frustrated, but the water is warm, and the sound of it drowns out his thoughts. The baby wakes up and stretches as he steps under the spray. He splays a hand over his belly. "Hey, sleepy. Look who's finally up." it's still awkward, talking to someone he can't see and who can't understand him, but less so now. God, he must be losing his edge. The shower curtain rustles; Hardison pokes his head in. Eliot raises his eyebrows.

"What?"

"I love you."

He sighs through his nose, but can't help smiling a bit. "Love you too. Get outta here."

 


 

A couple hours later finds them at a nondescript airfield just outside of town. Hardison's little cessna sits patiently on the tarmac while he flits around packing and checking this and that, and Eliot and Parker sit huddled in the hangar out of the rain.

"Can't believe he's gonna miss Christmas," Parker grouses. "I was gonna finally give him that drone this year."

"You still can," says Eliot.

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be a Christmas present. It's not the same." Eliot shrugs and says nothing. In the distance, another small plane lands and taxis out of sight. "I got you something too," Parker adds.

"You don't have to do that."

"I know. I wanted to. You're cool and I love you, and you deserve nice things." she says it simply, the way you might say water is wet or things fall when you drop them, and it makes Eliot's chest feel warm.

"I don't deserve either of you," he says quietly. Parker lightly elbows him in the side.

"Yeah, you do." Hardison steps back into the hangar and pushes back the hood of his raincoat. Parker looks up at him. "You leavin'?"

"Yep. All set." Hardison holds out his arms, and Parker gets to her feet for a hug.

"You sure we can't change your mind?" she asks when she pulls away.

"You could come with me."

"Mm...I could probably scrunch up, but someone's gotta make sure this guy stays outta trouble." she turns her gaze back to Eliot, who gives her a cool, level stare.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says archly, "I'm a paragon of good behavior." he gets to his feet as his partners laugh, and slots himself into the hug next to Parker. They stand like that for a moment, just the three of them and the kid sandwiched in between. Then Hardison pulls back and snags a kiss from both of them.

"I love you guys," he murmurs, "so damn much." then, half-turning to Eliot: "text me, okay? Day or night. I'll be here."

"Damn right you will. You're gonna be there when I pop this kid out, even if it means we have to drive down to Florida and personally drag your lanky ass home." he's joking, but there's a little threat in there too, and Hardison picks up on it. He laughs.

"Why you gotta make that sound so terrifying?"

"I mean it."

"I know you do. So do I." he sneaks a hand down to Eliot's stomach, stops just short of touching it and raises his eyebrows, asking permission. Only when Eliot nods does he splay his fingers out over the bump. The baby jostles and presses into it, and he smiles to himself. "You behave yourself too, yeah? Go easy on him. No more midnight dance parties." his voice is impossibly fond; Parker grins, and suddenly there's a lump in Eliot's throat. He swallows hard and for once, lets it be.

With some help from Parker, and none at all from Hardison, they shoo him back out of the hangar into the rain. Then the pair stand side by side and watch as the cessna powers up, taxis, lifts off, and finally vanishes into a cloud. Eliot sighs.

"You've been dating him longer than I have...does this part ever get easier?"

"Nope." Parker puts her own hood up. "But absence makes the heart grow fonder, as the Greeks say."

"Pretty sure that's Shakespeare."

"Tomato, tomahto. It's cold out here, let's go home."

Eliot lets that one slide. With one last glance back at the clouds he hunches his shoulders against the rain, links his arm with Parker's, and together they turn to leave.

 

xxxXXXxxx

Notes:

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