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After the company that makes his gummy frogs shuts down, Hardison’s devastated. He refuses other gummy frogs or gummy worms/bears/fish as inferior (the other kosher options aren't nearly as good), but constantly complains about needing the snacks to think and hack. He's well aware he's being annoying, but this is a part of the mourning process and he needs to go through it! He needs sympathy in this trying time - which, yes, may well last months, what of it. When he tries that line of reasoning on Eliot, he just bitches about the gummy frogs being bad for him anyway and insists that there are super simple healthful snack options out there which will work just the same. The arguing is fierce over the next several weeks, and Eliot goes through several options that are rejected for being too difficult, too fancy, not sweet enough, boring looking, Eliot, where’s the emotion?
Finally, one day Eliot storms up to where Hardison's lounging on the couch and slams an exquisitely prepared bowl of beautiful little fruit hearts down on the coffee table.
“How’s that for emotion, huh?” He’s got a smug little grin. This has it all: it’s easy to make with just a shaped cutter, sweet but not artificial, no complex ‘fancy’ flavors, and definitely not boring at all. It’s gorgeous, he obviously knows it, he knows Hardison knows it, he’s already so smug.
Hardison, meanwhile, stares down at the beautiful fruit bowl and feels his heart melt. He’s visibly moved even if it does mean Eliot has won the argument, because this - this is so sweet… He spots a couple kiwis that are in the shape of little frog faces and feels actual tears welling up.
“Eliot,” he says, deeply moved, watching Eliot blush in response to the emotion in his voice (the poor fool didn’t realize this was gonna end in, at a minimum, a long long hug? little makeout, maybe? did he not notice he was declaring his love? probably not actually, he almost never does till after the fact, but that doesn’t make it any less adorable every goddamn time), “this is -”
Something crinkly hits him in the side of the head. He and Eliot both startle and look up. It’s Parker, of course. She’d vanished a few days ago on very vague pretenses, but she does that sometimes so they’d just exchanged a glance and let her go, more preoccupied with the great gummy frogs debate and trusting her to take care of herself for at least a week or two. She isn’t exactly Nate; they figured Parker was probably just stealing something cool and would reach out if she needed them.
“I’m back,” she chirps, and reaches behind her into the vent. There’s a crinkling sound. “Hey, Hardison. It’s raining.”
“Wh-” he doesn’t get any further before she brings her arm forward and drops several more crinkly plastic bags on his head. It takes a second to recognize them - in his defense, the internet is barren and he lost all hope about a fortnight ago; not to mention they’re falling on his face and he’s kind of busy flinching - but he’d know that packaging anywhere.
“BABE. YOU DIDN’T.”
Parker grins wider. Drops another handful on him. Hardison doesn’t even try to dodge; on the contrary, he spreads his arms out wide and beckons for more. They keep falling from the sky in a seemingly unending supply, smacking into his chest and along his legs where he’s been lounging on the couch.
“How?” Hardison has to ask. “I looked everywhere, there’s no one selling these, no stock left, nothing-”
“An abandoned underground bunker in North Dakota,” Parker answers, which… doesn’t really answer anything but Hardison’s too blissed out to care. He swears he can taste them through the packaging. The artificial sweet smell is overwhelming; it’s so good.
“Bury me like this,” he moans. Maybe cries a little. “Parker -”
She drops a double handful this time, leaning half out of the vent. Hardison has never been more in love in his life. He grabs at a bag pressed into his neck, ripping it open with his teeth, and reverently pops the first frog into his mouth.
It tastes of artificial cherry and gelatin: exactly perfect.
Parker only drops a few more bags before flipping herself out of the vent and sliding down a nearby rope at high speed. Hardison’s not sure if that’s because she’s exhausted her supply (god, he hopes not) or if it’s just because she has finished blanketing him in gummy frogs from face to feet.
In the absence of the bags hitting him over and over, he remembers something. He freezes, another frog held just between his teeth, and slowly turns his head to look at Eliot.
Eliot is just standing there, holding his bowl of fruit, just. Staring. His face is completely blank and he is very still.
Parker notices too. Glances at the fruit: “Ooh, cute!” and darts a hand in to snatch a bite. Eliot lets her, eyes locked on Hardison.
Hardison looks down at the gummy frogs all over himself, then back at the bowl of fruit. The meaning behind it is still just as moving, but the motivation to actually eat it is… facing some competition at the moment.
“I love both gifts equally,” he proclaims. Makes sure to meet Eliot’s eyes so he knows that he really means it. Something in Eliot’s face relaxes, without a single muscle actually moving. “I love both of you. This is not a competition, and no one won.”
Rather than easing further at this reassuring statement, Eliot’s eyes narrow. They’re laser focused. Hardison tries to hold up. Still, no man on earth wouldn’t crack under that suspicious gaze eventually.
“…but, maybe, we should put the fruit in the fridge for later, since I already opened this ba-”
“DAMMIT, HARDISON!”