Archive of Our Own

Alec was explaining why they should definitely, absolutely go to Disneyworld -- just for fun, not to steal anything, which seemed to be the sticking point. They kept asking him about the job and then everytime he said no, there was no job, he’d get a blank look from Parker and Eliot. But that was all right, that was just fine. Most geniuses were misunderstood in their own time.

Eliot was closing out the kitchen after trying out some new recipes for the menu and Parker was sitting at the bar, patting her stomach after eating all those new recipes. Alec was made of sterner stuff, so despite also having eaten the gross domestic product of Rhode Island in various foodstuffs, he was still barrelling ahead with his argument.

“--The Magic Castle. It has magic in the name! You’re telling me --”

“Shh,” Parker said suddenly, and Alec snapped his head around to see her staring at the door.

“Ok, what’s…” And then he saw what, which was Eliot looking at the door like it was on fire. Half like he should run towards it, and half a look of danger. Alec knew the door wasn’t on fire, so the looks must be directed at the unassuming elderly white gentleman standing on the other side. He could have been anyone in faded blue jeans, with a button-up stretched over his pot-belly, and a cap covering what was probably pretty wispy hair. Now, Alec had seen a lot in his life and so he did not trust appearances. If Eliot thought this guy was dangerous, then Alec expected to see a bazooka come out of that man’s head any second.

“What’s the play?” Alec whispered, not moving.

Eliot swallowed. “I’m going to open the door,” he said, not sounding certain at all.

Parker asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s my dad.”

***

Eliot and his dad were sitting at a far corner table. Parker and Alec were hiding back behind the bar. Even from here, Alec could see Eliot clasping and unclasping his hands over the table.

“How long?” Alec asked. He meant, how long since Eliot saw his dad?

“Dunno. Years at least,” Parker whispered. Alec nodded. That tracked with what Eliot had told him in the back of Lucille. Eliot had wanted to get out of the town he grew up in, took his first chance, and his dad hadn’t spoken to him since. Alec knew what it was like to get left, his mom had jetted when he was three and his dad had never been in the picture, but he didn’t know what it would be like to not be able to come home. Nana had made sure Alec always knew he had a place with her, once she had him. It had taken him years to trust it, but now he did.

“We should go over there.” Alec said the words, but he didn’t want to do it. Eliot probably needed moral support, but Alec had no idea how to give it.

Parker, who probably had even less idea, just widened her eyes at him.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Alec tried.

Parker just made a frustrated noise, took a deep breath, and jogged out from behind the bar. Alec couldn’t let her go on her own, so he followed.

“--just started driving, and well, you know the rest.” Eliot’s dad was explaining how he got here.

“I left my number with my address,” Eliot said, stiff as a board. “You could have called.”

“If you don’t want me here --” He made a move to stand and Eliot shot out his hand to touch his dad’s sleeve. He pulled it back just as quickly, clasping his hands.

“No. Please stay.” Eliot’s voice sounded weirdly hollow though, like the words were escaping with a lot of air. It almost sounded like he could have been saying, ‘No. Please.’ Eliot didn’t beg though, no how, no way. Alec looked over at Eliot and it looked like the lines of his face were carved just a little bit deeper and his hands were still gripping each other for dear life.

Alec felt ashamed of trying to hide from this. If this was the other way round, Eliot would be there for him, would be there first, standing between the scary thing and Alec. Alec vowed to do better.

The man settled, and Eliot turned to Alec and Parker who were now just hovering awkwardly.

“Parker, this is my dad, Norman. Dad, this is Parker.”

Parker stuck out her hand, very much like how Sophie taught them to introduce themselves in every day business contexts and said, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Spencer.”

Norman shook back. “You too.” He turned to Eliot. “Is this your girlfriend?”

A momentary look of panic shot across Eliot’s face and it was Parker who said, “Yes. I’m with Eliot.”

Eliot’s dad’s eyebrows went up and before he could say anything else, Alec said, “Hi, I’m Alec,” and similarly stuck out his hand.

“Alec owns the bar,” Eliot interjected. It was like Eliot was working on a weird time scale, responding too slow sometimes -- ‘No. Please.’ -- and too quickly others.

Norman shook back and nodded. “Pleased to meet you. So Eliot works for you then?” Norman released his hand. “You work in a bar, Eliot?” Norman sounded a little disappointed.

Alec opened his mouth to trot out their usual line about Eliot being a security consultant, but Eliot said, “Yes, I’m the cook.”

Alec looked at Parker and she made eye contact. What the heck?

Eliot got some food for his dad and sent them a glance. It was a dark, unreadable expression, but Eliot didn’t seem like he’s going to lose it immediately, and he had his panic button, so they decided to go up to their apartment and wait for him.

***

“Did you know about this guy?” Parker asked.

Alec shook his head. “I mean, I knew he hadn’t talked to his dad in a while. That his dad told him not to come back.”

Parker hummed. “So not a lot to go on.”

Alec had to agree.

***

A couple of hours later, Eliot stumbled upstairs. Parker was off doing her secret Parker things.

Alec paused Mario Kart.

“Can we...do I have to talk about it?”

“No man, of course not,” Alec said and Eliot’s face did this horrifying crumpling thing. Without thinking about it, Alec was halfway across the room, pulling Eliot into his chest.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. Whatever you need.”

Eliot bit his lip.

Which is how they ended up in bed with Alec’s laptop on his lap, rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender for the fifth time.

***

The next day the whole brewpub gets involved in Eliot’s workplace deception. Amy, who has never been a good liar, managed to mostly mumble through her, ‘yes, chef,’ routine. It shouldn’t have been so hard, Eliot was technically head chef, since he set the menu, but it was their executive chef who mostly wore the chef title, and who ran things day to day. Chef Ortiz seemed to be enjoying it though, biting her lip every time Eliot did something that caused a stutter in the usually smooth rhythm of the kitchen. Two sous chefs crashed into each other and would’ve thrown a whole bowl of carrot peels into the air except Eliot swooped in to catch both: first the sous-chef, then the bowl.

“How many do you think he could catch at one time?” Alec heard a line cook mutter.

“Bowls or sous-chefs?” Chef Ortiz whispered back until a glare from Eliot pulled a meek ‘yes, chef’ out of the line cook. Chef Ortiz just raised an eyebrow. Alec thought they were seconds from disaster. No functioning kitchen would ever tolerate the slapstick routine that was going on.

Somehow Norman seemed to buy it. “Your kitchen sure is lively,” he said, zero irony. Alec sucked in a hysterical laugh so hard he was pretty sure he herniated something.

Eliot shooed them all out of the kitchen so he could cook them lunch.Parker, Alec, and Norman sat down at the bar to wait for their lunch. Alec winced when he heard a crash from the kitchen. Then a “Dammit, Omar!” Followed by, “Sorry El -- I mean, sorry dammit, I mean -- sorry, chef!”

Alec was swallowing down a snort -- painful, he did not recommend it -- and darting glances over at Norman, who was just steadily working through his beer.

“So, Norman -- Mr. Spencer,” he corrected after Norman shot him a sharp look. “What do you think of the beer?” Alec partnered with local breweries on some experimental and exclusive brews. They switched them out every couple of months. He liked to give Eliot a challenge, that kept things from getting boring at home. Alec lived for the impossibly sexy glare that Eliot would give the new beer.

Norman took another sip. “It’s real bitter,” he said. “I’ve never understood why anyone would want to drink tree bark, unless they were a hippie.”

Alec’s smile was slipping. “Ah, well, I can get you a different one.” He was already stepping behind the bar. “Tell me what you like.” He didn’t have Nate’s skill pulling a pint but he could do something serviceable.

Norman shook his head, taking another long sip. “Eliot said it was his favourite. So.” Then he shrugged. “Eliot does have that hippie hair, I guess,” and the left edge of his lip quirked like he was inviting them in on a joke. But he hadn’t been expecting it, and Parker had been taking advantage of his shift of focus onto Alec to let her face rest out of the smile she’d had affixed to her face since Norman had come into the brewpub. She’d been maximally cheerful all day. So when Norman made his ‘joke’ all they managed to do was meet each other’s eyes with varying degrees of baffled in their expression. Or maybe concerned? If they were comic book characters their thought bubbles would have just been a series of question marks.

When they didn’t respond, his lip drifted back down and they sat there in silence, again.

Eventually Eliot came out with the food.

Norman took a bite. Eliot looked like he wasn’t breathing. It was a simple chicken parm, but Eliot had done it up really nice, curled some carrots into little spirals on top of the rice. Then Norman took another bite. “It’s good,” he said and Eliot exhaled. “He cook for you like this?” Norman turned to Parker.

“Sometimes,” she said. Alec waited for her to go on about the chocolatey pancakes Eliot made, or the way he always made her eat a vegetable and a protein before he got the blowtorch out for creme brulee, and how she complained but secretly his broccoli tempura was her favourite part of the meal. She didn’t say that though, she said, “it’s nice to meet a man who knows his way around a kitchen!” with a big smile. “Do you cook, Mr. Spencer?”

“Not unless it’s over an open fire. Neither me or Mrs. Spencer were dab hands in the kitchen, actually, don’t know where Eliot got it.” He chuckled a little, taking another sip of his beer.

Parker listened with wide eyes like she didn’t know better than this stranger exactly where Eliot had gotten his skill.

Norman got up to smoke and Eliot collapsed a little.

Alec didn’t know why this was so important to Eliot, why he’d want to lie to this man. But Alec could tell that the stress was getting to Eliot.

Alec reeled Eliot in by the belt loops. Eliot resisted a little, but eventually sighed and leaned into Alec, just for a moment.

“You’re ok, Eliot,” Alec said, squeezing Eliot’s hips a little. “We’re with you.”

Eliot nodded and bonked his forehead against Alec’s chest. Eliot wouldn’t describe it that way, but that’s what he did.

Then Alec heard the door jangle and Eliot stiffened and pulled away. Norman came back in, and Eliot had to be back on.

Something niggled at Alec, though. But it couldn’t be.

Was it possible that Eliot’s dad didn’t know about him and Alec?

Alec reviewed the evidence. Eliot had introduced Parker as his girlfriend. He hadn’t said anything about Alec. But Norman had to be wondering why Alec was around all the time right? And Eliot wasn’t that physically affectionate usually, but Alec was all up in Eliot’s personal space bubble. Eliot had a whole personal decontamination zone for other people, but Parker and Alec could nestle up right inside.

There’s no way Norman could have missed it. Right?

Alec decided to watch and wait.

***

They grabbed dinner out at a trendy new pizza place. Norman made awkward conversation with Eliot, asked Parker how her work was going. He was polite to Alec, but Alec wasn’t getting the same questions.

They had now talked with Norman a few times and Alec had no read on this dude’s personality. He seemed quiet, which wasn’t obvious from the way he kept asking questions, but came through in the hesitation between when he opened his mouth and the sound came out. Hardison could sort of imagine him and Eliot going fishing and not saying anything for the whole day. In comparison, Eliot was a chittering chipmunk. Alec couldn’t see anything that explained why Eliot was so afraid of him.

He started shooting looks over to Eliot...who studiously avoided every single one. Be chill, Alec, he thought to himself, maybe he’s just wary of PDA in front of the Older Generation. God knows Alec sat up straighter and watched his mouth when his Nana was in the same city as him in case she could sense him taking the Lord’s name in vain. And that tracked too, with Eliot. When Alec had taken Eliot and Parker back to the homestead in North Carolina, Eliot had acted like they needed to leave room for Jesus when they were together, a good foot of clearance on every hug. Alec had nipped that one in the bud real quick, waiting til Eliot’s hands were full of coffee and cake on the sofa before plopping his head right in Eliot’s lap. Eliot had cursed him out for ambushing him while holding coffee, but Alec had trusted his reflexes. He trusted Eliot.

So he waited, and held onto his smile like he had strings hooked into the corners that he was lifting with sheer force of will.

***

“Eliot,” he asked tentatively as they brushed their teeth side by side. Mindful of the ambush, Alec waited until he’d swished and spit. “Just wondering” -- Eliot immediately tensed, so nonchalant was clearly not Alec’s middle name -- “does your dad have an alternative interpretation of our relationship?”

Eliot flinched. Wow. This was --

What had this man done to Eliot?

Eliot was the truest, strongest man he knew. Eliot could be anywhere in the world, doing anything, making all sorts of money and he’d chosen to be here with Parker and Alec. He’d said ‘til my dying day and meant it and who means stuff like that? No one except Eliot who showed him every single day. Eliot made him breakfast and carried his snacks and made sure the fridge never ran out of orange soda. When Alec was up late gaming, he didn’t lecture, he just turned on the lights so Alec’s eyes wouldn’t strain.

Eliot made him go for runs and rubbed his calves afterwards when they cramped. And when Alec whined about it and tried to get out of it and called Eliot a sadist and worse Eliot would just smile at him impossibly soft and say that he expected Alec to be around to whine at Eliot for a long, long time and would Alec like a strawberry? And Alec choked out a yes, that sounds nice, and didn’t just mean the fruit.

And it wasn’t like this was a small, private thing. At some point, without his knowing, Eliot had put out some sort of notice up on mercenary MySpace that said something like ‘Alec Hardison Is Protected’ because one time Alec had been in the market for some specialised microchips and had gone to a dealer of questionable reputation to acquire said merchandise. They’d had a bit of a disagreement -- Alec said the chips were faulty, dealer said to pay for them anyway -- and the dealer had called in his hired muscle. Alec had thrown his hands up, started fast talking, but before he could even get a sentence out the muscle had taken one look at Alec, said ‘that’s Eliot’s Spencer’s man, the fuck you doing?’ glared at his boss, and escorted Alec out of the building and back to his car.

As he’d opened the car door for Alec like the world’s most unlikely valet, and he’d leaned in and said ‘Tell Eliot Spencer that he owes Sergio Casillas a favour -- and Alec had nodded back, blinking rapidly, and peeled out of there.

He told Eliot that story later, bemusedly sipping at a soda while Eliot julienned a potato, waiting for the punchline, but Eliot had simply nodded and then they’d never spoken of it again.

That was how Alec had learned that he was Untouchable.

Eliot had staked his professional reputation, his work, his life, on Alec Hardison. Eliot physically put himself between Alec and anything that tried to hurt him, Alec couldn’t even count the number of times.

Alec realised he’d been staring, toothpaste dripping off of his brush and hastily tidied that up, trying to think of a blase, normal thing to say. Eliot had curled up, hands coming around his ribs and Alec ached for him. He reached out and pulled Eliot in, shushing him while Eliot took big breaths and said ‘I’m sorry,’ over and over.

“It’s ok,” Alec said, even though that was worlds from the truth, even though he felt like the walls inside of him were crumbling down, leaving nothing but a desire to destroy.

His blood pulsed. Who was this man to come to their home and make Eliot shake? Eliot who faced down the worst scum with a smile, Eliot who took bullets without flinching? How dare he?

He wouldn’t let Eliot keep apologising. Instead, he held Eliot close and shuffled them into the bedroom, moving by feel til his shins hit the foot of the bed. Then, with a small engagement of the core muscles Eliot insisted he develop, he tipped them over onto the bed, feet hanging off.

They lay like that for a long moment. When Parker came in, she made a small inquiring noise before snaking her own way onto the bed to bracket Eliot. What happened, she asked with her eyes. Later, Alec answered.

“Should we inchworm up the bed?” she whispered, and Eliot laughed. Alec felt the vibration of it in his sternum.

***

In the morning, he did what he should have done the first morning and peeled Parker off for a private chat.

“Well, obviously he’s running a con,” Parker said, blithely unconcerned.

Alec stared. That...was not what he expected. Though it did make her whole happy Stepford thing make more sense. In the last few years he hadn’t seen Parker smile as many times as she had in the last few days.

“Why would he want to con his dad?” The question sounded preposterous when he asked it out loud, but huh, that did explain the pathological lying. It was actually what was sort of going on, wasn’t it?

That made some of Eliot’s actions make sense: control the vulnerability, create a persona that suits the situation, limit access. But in a bigger sense it didn’t make sense, because every con had a goal, and Alec couldn’t figure out what Eliot wanted. Couldn’t be money, Norman was wearing head-to-toe Walmart.

So what did Eliot want?

***

The four of them were out getting coffee when Alec saw it happen. A purse snatcher -- like it was the 90s or something -- ran by a lady with a stroller and grabbed at her bag. Her instinct was to cling, not to release, and so a minor tug of war was going on.

Alec had instinctively grabbed for Eliot’s coffee to free up his hands, and he struggled to balance them so it took him a second to realise he wasn’t seeing a blur of flannel in his peripherals. Eliot was staring at the scene, eyes wide, so tense he was almost shaking. Alec could see the veins bulging out in Eliot’s forearms.

Alec wouldn’t have known what was going on, except Parker’s words were echoing in his mind. If Eliot was trying to maintain his cover…

“Eliot, while you are currently a cook, you were also in the army,” he reminded, talking as quickly as he could.

Eliot exhaled, and then he was gone, chasing the thief down the street. Alec’s hands were full of coffee, so he handed one off to Parker and walked over to comfort the woman. Cute baby, made extra adorable by the tiny barrettes in its hair. Alec looked back at Parker, about to make a comment about the baby’s cuteness and relative strength thereof, but she was looking at Norman. Norman, who was looking at Eliot as he prowled his way back up the sidewalk, purse in his hands.

“Thank you, oh thank you, my baby’s medicine is in there.” The lady was tearing up and Alec gave her a pat on the back. Eliot just mumbled and then they were back on their side of the sidewalk, coffees properly redistributed. No one wanted a repeat of when Eliot accidentally sipped Parker’s and spent the next hour having dramatics about the amount of sugar in it.

“Still playing the hero, huh, son,” Norman said, not even raising his voice.

Alec’s mouth dropped open, because what? Uncalled for. Eliot liked to grandstand, sure, but only when he was having fun fighting. Gently dis-pursing a guy and awkwardly handing it back to its owner did not count.

But what really knocked Alec off-balance was Eliot’s reaction. He hunched in over himself, shoulders small.

What the fuck? He sent a glance over to Parker.

I don’t know, her wide eyes sent back. Do something, her eyebrow demanded.

Oh god what? His nostrils flared back.

Norman sighed and pinched his nose. “She seemed grateful, though. It was well done.”

Eliot unfurled, his face opening like a goddamn sunflower or something.

***

“Alright, Eliot,” Alec started, heart heavy. “I think you know what I’m going to say.”

They were in the brewpub, a bottle of whiskey between them. Eliot had walked in with Parker, seen him sitting there and had dropped down into the seat opposite with no arguments.

Eliot knocked back his whiskey. He put the shot glass down carefully, soundless, and swallowed the same way. His eyes were steady as he looked at Alec.

Parker opened her mouth but Alec shot her a look.

“I’m sorry,” Eliot said, which floored Alec. Alec could count on one hand the number of times Eliot apologised, and that included sarcastic ones like ‘I’m sorry you had to stop playing your games to do your damn job.’ This made twice in two days now. “I know it’s unforgivable but I’ll do my best to make it up to you. Anything you want. “ His face hadn’t changed the whole time he was talking, but now he took a ragged breath.

“Wait, what?” he and Parker said at the same time.

A shadow flickered in Eliot’s eyes but he passed a hand over them and it was like it was never there. “I didn’t tell my dad about -- about us.” He said the words ‘my dad’ like they were a precious bird he was trying to hold in his hands. “You’re right to be angry but please.” He bit his lip. “Don’t leave.”

Alec felt like his eyes were bugging out. He had to pause to take a quick eyebrow-based conversation with Parker, just as unhelpful as the last one.

“Why would I leave?” Alec asked, eyebrows all the way in the sky now. Eliot said nothing. Alec couldn’t outwait Eliot at the best of times. “That wasn’t what I was going to say anyway.”

Eliot squared his jaw. Alec could almost hear him saying I can take it. Alec opened his mouth. Closed it. He hadn’t really thought past ‘I think you know what --’ and had sort of hoped Eliot would fill in the blanks. He just wanted Eliot to be honest, explain what he was thinking. He sort of thought Eliot would be like ‘yeah, you got me, here’s everything that’s going on in my head -- but don’t worry, it’s chill’ and instead Eliot thought Alec was going to leave him? What the fuck?

Parker cleared her throat and Alec waved her in. “I think Alec wants to ask about the endgame. We’ve been going along with the con so far, but it’s time to let us in.”

“No!” Alec said, “Stop it, both of you, am I the only one hasn’t taken the crazy pills today? I am not asking about the endgame, I am asking why there seems to be a game at all.” He shook his head once, sharply. “Parker, Eliot is not running a con, this is literally his dad, I did the background check.” Parker looked mulish. “Eliot -- don’t look at me like that, of course I ran a background check, what if he had debts or was on the run from the mob or something.” Eliot shrugged, fair enough. He started again, “Eliot, we get that you’re lying to your dad, but the issue is that it’s hurting you, man.” Eliot flinched in a little, a crack in his perfect posture. Alec hated to see it, just like he’d hated to see it so many times over the last few days. He made his voice gentle. “Sort of like Parker said, we’ll back your play, we’re your guildies, your rope harness, whatever, you just gotta tell me why.”

He scrubbed at his eyes a little, furious at himself. This was about Eliot, he shouldn’t be having a feeling right now.

Parker gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You have to tell us what you’re after.”

Eliot made a low sound in the back of his throat. “I want my dad. I want to have a family.” God, didn’t Alec just know that feeling. Alec remembered, a remembering from before words, of being sat down in a beige room with stacking blocks so old the letters had worn off and wanting his dad, his mom, someone to take him. There was a part of him that was always going to be there.

“Family doesn’t lie to family, Eliot,” Parker said. Alec made an outraged noise.

Eliot said, “I know you’re trying to tell me it’s better to have no family than a family where it’s all a lie but maybe just for a minute I could pretend that I don’t have to make that choice. Is that so wrong? Just for,” and he knocks his knuckles into the table just once, softly, leaning on his fist, like bringing his fist down would be more effort than he can spare, “for just a little while?”

“Yes,” Parker said. “It is wrong.” Alec started to say her name, but he got cut off. “You told me, Eliot, you told me it was ok to be mad at Archie, that even though he took me in and trained me up, that he kept secrets and kept me hidden. That it was ok for me to feel complicated about that. Do you remember saying that?”

Alec wanted to put up his hand, wanted to put a stop to this. Eliot looked raw, just this side of shattered and Parker was pressing him. Her eyes were flat and dark and merciless. It made him want to put himself in front of Eliot, give him a little pocket of quiet and dark to put himself back together. But Parker also wasn’t wrong.

“It’s my dad who has the right to feel complicated, not me.” Eliot was leaning forward, words rushing out of him like he could push the words into their skin. “I left him, ok, and he said if I went I shouldn’t come back and by the time I got my head out of my ass enough to try, I really couldn’t.” He swallowed, throat working like he was fighting the burn of whiskey even though he hadn’t drunk another drop. “He lost two brothers in Vietnam, did you know that? Never met my uncles. And then I just went and signed up, got chewed up by the army, spat back out less than I came in. It’s exactly what he didn’t want for me.” His eyes were pleading. “He wanted so much for me. I just want to give him that.”

Alec was absolutely crying, he wasn’t even pretending. “Complicated can go both ways, Eliot.” What he wanted to say was: no one in this world deserves to be seen and loved for who they are more than you. Nothing and no one should ever make you feel like you have to slice yourself up into pieces to be wanted. He’d say that, he’d shout that, if he thought for one second that Eliot would hear him.

Eliot rounded on him, finger raised. “You don’t know -- you’ve got your nana and your perfect family with the stale biscuits and Thanksgivings with kids running around. I’ve got nothing, so don’t tell me about family.”

It was Parker’s turn to bristle but Alec put up a hand. “I’m going to let that slide,” he said, voice mild, “because you’ve been having a very hard day. Except to say that that’s exactly why. Nana taught me that family was worth having because you work for it.” And they did work for it. Eliot had been dragged into a whole bunch of Alec’s working for it. From group Skype calls to mandatory dinners to hosting random cousins, the Hardison family network was a carefully architected web that needed vigilance and maintenance, like any good SysAdmin would know. “We choose to be family every day. You don’t think that’s hard?”

To his credit, Eliot looked guilty, eyes flicking down. “I know,” he said. “I know that. You’re right.”

“Good,” Alec said. Parker had pulled her chair closer to Eliot’s to drape herself across his shoulders while Alec was talking. “We get it, man, we get it more than anyone else.” He took a breath. “Which is why I have to say that Parker is right,” he said, and Parker beamed at him. “Family doesn’t lie to each other, otherwise it’s just a con.”

“And it makes you all flinchy!” Parker said.

Alec nodded. “And it makes you flinchy. So tell me why you’re not even fighting for the chance to be family with this guy?” And then it was his turn to cuddle up to Eliot as he let the words come out.

***

Norman was coming to the brewpub for breakfast before they officially opened. Amy was there, ostentatiously wiping down a table but Alec gave her a jerk of his head and she retreated into the back to fill sugars or something.

Eliot squared his shoulders. Alec gave him a nod but now that it was actually coming to it he was absolutely shaking inside of his converse. He’d suggested that Eliot could break it to Norman slowly, maybe start with him not being a cook and work up to the threesome. Eliot said he would think about it.

“Dad,” he said, before Norman could even sit down, faking a cough to cover the way his voice cracked.

Norman immediately looked wary, eyes darting to the side.

“I need to tell you something.” He took a breath.

“You’re actually dating that one, aren’t you,” Norman said, voice resigned, gesturing at Alec. Alec stepped up to grab Eliot’s hand. Might as well, he figured, if Norman knew already.

His words brought Eliot up short though, chin jerking. Eliot squinted. “You knew.”

Norman snorted. “You and Jack weren’t subtle, all that time ‘working on your car.’” Alec absolutely had to get this story. But later. “And then after you broke up with Aimee, well.”

Eliot’s squint was still in full force. “Then why?” He straightened. “I understand why you didn’t say anything then, but you didn’t say anything now?”

He shrugged, uncomfortable. “Seemed like we weren’t talking about it. You sure weren’t saying anything.” Red was starting to creep up Norman’s neck.

“Fair enough,” Eliot said. Which. No. But Hardison wasn’t going to interrupt to say so. “Anyway, it’s not just Alec. It’s both of them.”

It was Norman’s turn to squint, but he hadn’t run out yet so Alec was feeling good about this progress. Finally, he said, “Well, you never could make up your mind.” Alec couldn’t even with this man. Was this humour as a coping mechanism or was he serious? Either way it was in poor taste. “You sure it’s a good idea to date your boss?” Alec’s vote was leaning towards bad humour as coping.

“Yeah, about that,” Eliot started.

Norman stepped forward to grip the back of a chair. “Does he even own the bar?”

“I do!” Immediately Alec regretted stepping into the middle of this when both of their eyes turned on each other.

“Alec owns the bar, I work as a security consultant.”

Norman just nodded.

Eliot’s head tilted. It was an eerily Parker gesture, that was a crow figuring out a puzzle sort of head-tilt. He clearly hadn’t expected this to all go down so easy.

“Dad, why did you come?”

“I told you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

This was like a mirror of the first night, Eliot confronting this strange man in the empty brewpub. Except it was sunny this time. And this time Alec was with him.

“Your uncle is getting married.”

“My uncle,” Eliot said slowly.

“Bobby.”

Eliot collapsed into a chair. “You told me he died. In Vietnam.”

“Well,” Norman said, and looked away. “He went to Vietnam. Then he moved to San Francisco.”

Oh. Oh. He was shooting beams of understanding at Parker. She was beaming back, thunder mixed in.

Eliot laughed, high, short, sharp. Alec was bracing before he could think, bracing his shoulder against Eliot's. Eliot reached up and Alec dropped a hand down, letting Eliot grab his hand and hold it to his shoulder, pressing him to his chair. Alec watched Norman’s eyes track the maneuver, lips tight. He said nothing.

“Parker was right,” Eliot said, and his voice was all wrong. “Family doesn’t lie to each other. God, I can’t believe --” He took a breath. “Were you even going to tell me? Or did having a gay brother just remind you that you had a gay son?”

Norman winced. Before he could say anything, Alec jumped in. “He did tell you. Ok?” He squeezed Eliot’s hand. “He came over to Oregon just to tell you.”

“What are you doing?” Parker hissed from way up close. Alec did not startle. He shot her a look. Eliot had just broken Alec’s heart, telling him he had no one, had no family. And now he had a dad and an uncle, even if maybe it was cracked, and new. Alec wasn’t going to let Eliot throw away the possibility of that future when he was caught up in the betrayal of the present.

“Thank you -- for telling me,” Eliot said, ground glass on every word. “Was that all?”

Norman tugged his shirt down. Alec knew that gesture. That was an Eliot gesture. “Yes.”

Eliot nodded. “Then I think you should go.”

“Oh.” Norman said. The red was all the way up his neck now. “Forever?”

What was it with Spencer men and giving up so easy? Eliot he understood, Norman had lied to him his whole life. But Norman? The man decided he’d drink good coffee and eat fancy pizza for a weekend and call it good enough? That was not what Alec called putting in the work. Norman didn’t get to give up that easy. “No. Just for,” Alec looked at Eliot, appraising. He took in the hectic light in his eye, the grip he still hadn’t released on Alec’s hand. “You know what? Give me your number. I’ll let you know when’s a good time. And we’ll see each other at the wedding.”

Norman jerked.

“Right?” Alec pressed. He needed him to say it. Eliot needed him to say it.

“Yes,” Norman said. “The...wedding.” Jesus the man was not making this easy. He drove all the way from Oklahoma and then seemed ready to lie down over two words.

“Sounds good,” Alec said, breezy, then jerked his head at Parker who walked Norman to the door.

Alec dropped into a chair next to Eliot, keeping their hands together. He left the other one free so Parker could grab it when she came back. “All of this time, Hardison. He could’ve… do you know what it would have meant?” Alec had some idea, growing up queer in North Carolina had not been the easiest time but this was on a whole other level.

“Alright, Alec, explain yourself.” Parker had her hands balled into fists. Alec stared at Eliot’s empty hand and she huffed and put one of hers inside of it.

“Family is work, Parker.” Alec was deliberately echoing what he said last night, hoping she’ll remember what Eliot said, the small heartbreaking way he’d said, I want my dad.

Parker huffed. “Fine, but if he says one wrong thing I’m using the judo throw Eliot taught me last week.”

Eliot laughed. It was small, and delicate, like a little flightless bird, but it was still the most beautiful sound in the world.

“See, Eliot? Parker threatening to judo throw your dad? Sounds like a family gathering to me.” The laugh got a little wet and Parker slid in under his arm so Eliot could bury his face in her hair. He hesitated for a second, but he wanted Eliot to know. “Even if this doesn’t work out, you don’t have nothing, Eliot. I get why you would feel like that, and I’d never try to replace your dad--” why was he having the ‘meet your new stepdad conversation,’ where had he gone wrong in life. He took a breath. “But you’re enough, as you are, and we’re always going to be with you. If we can find a way to make it work with that guy, we will. We do the impossible twice a week, this is nothing. But if we don’t?” Alec touched Eliot’s shoulder, waited for him to look up from Parker’s hair. “You’ll still have this family.”

Eliot’s lip looked dangerously red and swollen, like he’d been biting down on his feelings.

Parker gave him a squeeze. “We made promises too,” she said. “You’re not the only one who is in this til your dying day.”

Eliot shuddered and collapsed a little. But that was ok, he had Alec and Parker to lean on. “Okay,” Eliot said. “Okay.”

They stood there for a long time, the three of them, just breathing, turned into each other. Then Eliot straightened. And he smiled.