Work Text:
Parker watched as Eliot diced an onion, shifting it quickly into one of the multiple pots bubbling on the stove. They had become used to this routine; when Hardison was out picking up tech or costumes or whatever he did on a Thursday afternoon, they would gravitate to the kitchen. Despite her progress in understanding others and emotions, Parker still watched in fascination as Eliot poured his heart into the food. Their conversations drifted aimlessly, running over cons, clients, or equipment until Eliot asked Parker if the sauce was too sweet or the potatoes had enough garlic. While she didn’t have the intimate understanding of cooking Eliot had, she genuinely enjoyed it when Eliot would ask her opinion. Being the new master mind of leverage co. gave her a new feeling of confidence that she, and her two boys, appreciated.
After an hour or so, after the soup was done and potatoes out of the oven to cool, Parker jumped up on the counter, folded her hands and, as per their own personal tradition, asked Eliot “Why do you cook?”
Eliot sighed, but there was no bite behind it. Parker had begun to ask him this question whenever he made anything, after getting it into her head that each food he cooked meant something different to him. In a way she was right. He leaned against the counter next to her. “The soup is one of my own original recipes. I feel pride I guess, when I serve it to people." Parker leaned forward, studying the hitters face. “The potatoes were the first thing I made with Toby, actually. After….after the recon mission.”
Parker recognized that hesitation, the short pause that signified he was thinking of his past. She picked up where he left off.
“When he taught you to feel again.” Eliot smiled as Parker quoted their first conversation about food back to him.
“That’s right” he looked up at her, still smiling softly, “Only way I could feel for a while.” He paused, his brows furrowing.
“What?” Parker asked, hopping down. He didn’t usually stop at this part of the conversation. “The only way?” Parker studied Eliot as he shifted. “There’s something else.”
Eliot was staring at the floor now until he took a deep breath, “Parker if I tell you this you can never, and I mean never, tell anyone else.”
“Hardison?” She left the question hanging in the air.
Eliot sighed. “Not even Hardison. Until I…until I figure this out, okay?”
“This is your serious-serious voice, not your funny-serious voice isn’t it.” Eliot nodded and Parker nodded back, taking his hand, “Okay. What is it?”
Eliot thought for a moment before walking over to the cushioned love seat, pulling Parker down with him gently. She nudged her toes under his thigh, staring intently at his face until he began softly. “When I was getting out of the deal with Monroe, I had a heist. It was mostly a scare tactic, with the uniform, knives, guns, blackout make up, the whole deal. Not my usual gig, but I needed the money and was Monroe’s top man…” He stopped, taking a deep breath. Parker scooted closer to him, and he continued shakily,
“When we were done, I headed back to where I was staying. And when I got back, I took off the black out make up, stuff I had worn hundreds of times before in Black ops. So I got most of it off, but it was still sticking around my eyes and…and it looked like eye liner. And it was the first time I had really seen myself with it, you know? It didn’t make me think of the missions or the scare tactics. It made me feel something. Like I could be more than I was. Instead of frightening it was...”
Eliot stopped and looked at Parker for the first time since he began talking. “The next mission I met Toby, and I felt I again when I made my first dish with him.”
Parker sat in silence for a few moments before getting up and draping her legs over his lap and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “So…you like wearing makeup.”
Eliot sighed, tightening his grip around her waist. “I don’t know hon. I think so. I shouldn’t but-”
“Do you want me to do your make up?” She let the question out quickly, like she didn’t know if it was the right thing to be asking.
“You don’t have to help me do anything Parker. That’s my job-“ He stopped as she hit him in the arm.
“I’m serious, no job business. No oh I’m Eliot I can look out for myself,” She took a deep breath. “I want to be able to help you feel happy.”
Eliot kissed her lightly before resting his head on her shoulder. She shifted slightly, bringing her hands up card through his hair, feeling his body relax into the touch. As he hadn’t responded to her last question she decided to move on. “Is that why you have the long hair?”
The hitter shook his head, “Long hair, unidentifiable by military, no units have it. Makes my appearance variable and the military guys don’t take me seriously.” He mumbled into her neck. Parker twisted pieces of Eliot’s hair around her fingers in soft coils, carefully pulling four even pieces into a braid. After a few seconds, Eliot mumbled out the answer.
“But it does also help sometimes, yeah. After a difficult job,” relaxing further into her, making no motion to move. Parker just kept braiding his hair, calmly twisting and untwisting the pieces. They both sat like this for a while, breaths synchronized and heart beats steady.
“Do you want me to?” Parker asked again, quietly whispering into his hair.
Eliot pulled back, looking her in the eye. “This may not help Parker. This may make things worse. Last time I wore eye liner was the fashion show gig, didn’t really go over well.”
“But how did you feel, before anyone said anything?” Parker asked. Eliot shrugged, unusually embarrassed for some reason. It was just Parker, and she didn’t seem to care as much as Tara and Hardison had the last time.
“Good.” He muttered. “I felt calm, almost.”
Parker stood in one fluid motion, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bathroom. She gently pushed him against the counter until he lifted himself up onto the counter. Quietly she stepped in-between his legs, letting their foreheads rest against one each other’s. Only their breaths echoed against the tile, until Parker reached down and opened the top drawer under the sink. The thief smirked as she pulled the glittery bag up and placed it on Eliot’s thigh.
“Gift from Sophie.” She shrugged, opening it, “Apparently every grifter should have a good make up kit.” She mocked their friend’s British accent, earning a grin from the hitter. Parker dug through the bag until she pulled out an angled brush and a small dark eye shadow out with a triumphant ‘ha!’
She looked up at Eliot who was staring down the makeup. “Do you trust me?” she asked, her voice small. Eliot cupped her face gently,
“More than I trust myself sometimes.” Parker smiled and snapped open the eye shadow.
“Close your eyes,” she instructed, carefully beginning to apply a light coat of eye shadow along the roots of his eyelashes. Careful not to smudge her work, or to overdo it, she let the brush trace past the edge of his eye lid, in a small understated wing. Eliot relaxed into her touch, feeling the small brush tracing his eyes. Feeling her taking care and effort into such a small action made his throat feel tight.
“You okay?” Parker whispered, moving to his left eye. Eliot smiled; a year ago Parker wouldn’t even ask that. Hell, a year ago, Parker wouldn’t be putting eyeliner on him to make him feel better.
“Fine babe. How are you?” He and Hardison made it a point to always ask Parker how she was feeling when she did something emotional or centered on touch, as it was such a new thing for her.
She stepped back momentarily to admire her work. “Good. I think I like doing this.” Eliot opened his eyes, giving her a flirty grin and wink.
“Well darling, feel free to any time.” Parker nodded seriously, stepping back in-between his legs.
“Take a look then.”
Eliot turned to look in the mirror, and fealty his chest tighten. It was him but…different. Softer somehow. The blue of his eyes shone brighter, cleaner than they had before. He smiled, pulling Parker closer into a kiss.
“Thank you darling.” He whispered as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, barely registering the unlocking and opening of their front door.
“Honeys, I’m home!” Hardison shouted as he dramatically slammed the door behind him. “Where my peoples at?” He glanced around the apartment before seeing the bathroom door open.
“Hello lovelies’ I-wow.” He stopped, leaning against the doorway. Parker and Eliot slowly parted lips glancing up at him.
“Hey” Parker smiled, untangling herself from Eliot to make her way over to Hardison, giving him a light peck. “What’s up?”
Hardison glanced down at her, before looking back up at Eliot who was staring at the floor. “El.”
Eliot shifted as Hardison stepped around Parker, standing in-between the other man’s legs. Slowly, giving Eliot time to push him away he gently cupped his jaw, gasping softly as Eliot turned to look at him. “Eliot.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to the hitter's own before mumbling “You are so beautiful.”
Alec could feel Eliot’s breath stop in surprise at the statement, but quickly recovered, pulling back. “Really man? Cause last time I had on eye liner you didn’t seem to like it.”
Hardison scoffed, “Dude that was like, five years ago? I had some serious gay repression let me tell you.” He softened, “I’m sorry, Eliot. I think….I think you look really amazing. And I’m sorry if I hurt you. But wow-you-damn man. I will write up a petition right now that you should wear eyeliner literally all the time cause-”
“Shut up Hardison,” Eliot growled, pulling him into a tight hug. Parker laughed as she jumped up onto the counter to wrap her arms around them.
As Parker and Hardison tightened their grip around his waist and shoulders, Eliot smiled. Maybe it wasn’t just cooking and make up that made him feel again. Maybe these two wonderful, brilliant, crazy-ass thieves had something to do with it too. Not that he would ever admit it out loud. But the thief and hacker were smart; he was sure they already knew.