Chapter Text
Hooligan: a violent young troublemaker, typically one of a gang.
“Hardison! Parker!” Eliot roared from somewhere else in the apartment. “Get your asses out here!”
They paused what had been a nice little mid-afternoon makeout to listen. Eliot yelled at them all the time from other rooms, but usually he’d come and find them afterwards. It was only when he was genuinely mad that he made them find him.
“NOW,” he bellowed.
“This was your fault,” Hardison told Parker. “I’mma tell him you’re a bad influence. You are a bad influence, don’t look at me like that, this is absolutely your fault-”
She pushed herself up off his lap, whipping her ponytail into his face in the process, and dashed away at a run. It took him a moment to recover from the hair in his mouth, and a moment longer to realize she was going to make her case to Eliot before he could get there.
“Cheater,” he gasped, and leaped up, chasing after her through the kitchen and out the balcony door. He skidded to a halt just in time to avoid stepping on a sharp piece of broken wood, demanding, “Don’t listen to a word she says, it was all her-”
“Shut up,” Eliot said. He was dressed in his gardening clothes: worn-in jeans, a sleeveless shirt, a bandanna to hold his hair back, and a pair of old work gloves. It was a good look. It’d be more of a good look if he weren’t brandishing a trowel like a murder weapon two inches from Hardison’s throat.
He jabbed the trowel down at the ground next, where a large hunk of diamond-patterned wood lay, then back up at Parker.
“Well,” he growled tightly. “Go on.”
“I wanted to test out my latest rig for Hardison,” she said, all reasonable. “Drop him down from the roof then reel him back up.”
“So you made him climb my new trellis?” Eliot demanded, waving the trowel about emphatically. “You saw me build it! It obviously wasn’t made to handle that kinda weight, what kind of shoddy-”
“Hey!” Parker snapped back, professional pride clearly stung. “Of course I didn’t make him climb it! That thing couldn’t hold a teenager!”
“Yeah, cause it was meant for beans,” he snarled back. “How many times do I have to tell you hooligans to leave my garden alone!”
Hardison couldn’t help a huffed laugh under his breath at Eliot pretty much directly telling them to get off his damn lawn, but regretted it soon after when they both turned on him.
“Hey now, I’m the wronged party here,” he said, lifting his arms placatingly. “I’ve told her again and again, tell me before you push me off buildings! I can’t help a little flailing. It’s natural.”
“He freaked out and tried to cling to it when I was bringing him back up because he thought I was gonna drop him again,” Parker tattled.
“I didn’t, I didn’t just think it! I knew! You said you would,” Hardison yelled, pointing at her. “You think just ‘cause you distracted me with kisses in the meantime, I’d forget? Nu-uh.”
Parker crossed her arms at him. Eliot sighed, rubbed at his forehead, then crossed his arms too.
“Really, man?” he asked.
“Wh- yes! Yes really! Excuse me for having self-preservation instincts, alright? Nothing would've happened if she hadn’t decided to throw me off a building again.”
“Yeah, about that.” Eliot turned to Parker. “What the hell? Thought we were gonna do that together.”
“You took too long at the store; I got bored.”
“This is bullying,” Hardison decided. “Bullying. You should be ashamed of yourselves, ganging up on me like this. I’m ashamed of you. I’m - I’m walking away. Don’t need to hear any more of th-”
Eliot caught him by the collar and yanked him back before he could get in the door.
“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he said. He sounded all sweet and was kind of sweaty and rugged looking from carrying plants around or rolling in dirt, or whatever he did out here. His arm wrapped around Hardison’s neck, pulling him down and in as he leaned up onto his tiptoes to meet him. “C’mere.”
The kiss that followed was sweet too, gentle at first then gradually more intense. Hardison was still in a making-out mood; he lost himself in the moment a little, especially when Eliot yanked the work gloves off to cup his cheeks instead, biting lightly at his lip.
He kissed him once more, catching Hardison’s hands in his and gently holding him still as he stepped back. And back, letting go and leaving the gloves in Hardison’s hands, and back again, inside the house.
“You’re gonna need those,” he said with a grin, nodding at the gloves. “Don’t want to get a splinter cleaning all that mess up. Trash bag’s in the drawer over there.”
Eliot slid the balcony door shut. A moment later, the lock clicked, and he turned and walked away.
“That’s cold,” Hardison said, still a little stunned. “That’s - ohh, you’re gonna pay for that.”
He turned to Parker to complain. She looked from him, to the mess on the ground, then to the edge of the balcony.
“Oh, hell no,” Hardison yelped, leaping at her - but she’d already flipped right over the balcony wall. By the time he got there, she was freestyle climbing down the wall, clinging to the bricks.
“Traitor,” he yelled after her. “Both of you are traitors!”
“Love you too,” she called back, and kept climbing.