Title:Hot in Herre
Fandom/Pairing: Leverage Alec/Eliot
Rating: PG-13
Summary: For
scout_lover's prompt "Leverage, heatwave in Boston, Eliot's sweaty and in a beater, and Hardison notices.
A/N: Not only did I fulfill this with the fic, I give you even more cute guys in tank tops. And
these ones dance around in their underwear! You're welcome.
The stultifying heat that's been bogging Boston down all week is starting to soak into Alec's white linen suit, despite the ten blocks he'd driven with the top down.
The garage is an oven. Loosening his tie, Alec hands the keys off to Vaughn as he explains why he's here. Nobody respects the van, but Vaughn, at least, appreciates his Ferrari.
Alec can't blame him for planning on stealing it, and the guy's so friendly he almost feels bad for what's coming to him.
Even though the garage doors are open, the shop fans do little to move the air through, and the noise from the sander running down are loud enough that they're nearly shouting. He's describing the detailing he's apparently impulsively decided to have done, showing Vaughn the sketches he'd drawn on the hotel stationary, and it's good that Sophie's feeding him his lines. The cars in here, it turns out, aren't the only things worth admiring.
Eliot's ditched the work shirt he'd been wearing this morning. It's hard to tell with the black tank that's clinging to every muscle, but there's paint and grease smudged into his jeans, streaked over his skin, caked under his nails. His hair's curling from the humidity. It's pulled back, but loose strands have escaped to cling damply to his neck. He's more pristine wiping his hands off on a shop rag than Alec feels in his thousand dollar suit. And he's smirking back at him like he knows it.
"We can have this done by tomorrow afternoon," Vaughn eventually says, once they've talked it through and worked out the price. "Will you be needing a loaner? Not nearly as sexy as your girl there, but-"
"I'm being held hostage by this conference at the hotel," Alec jokes, nodding at the letterhead that illustrates how boring it must be. "So thanks, but I don't believe I'll be needing it. I'll flag a taxi."
"Nobody walks off my lot," Vaughn grins affably, clearly pleased by how easy a mark Alec seems to be. "I'll arrange a lift."
"If it's no trouble," Alec, at Sophie's command, sounds surprised. "Thanks."
"None at all. It's a pleasure doing business with you." They shake hands again, and Vaughn waves Eliot over. Alec tries not to stare at the sheen of his bare shoulders as he follows Vaughn into the office for the keys. The semi passing out on the road sends up something like a breeze, and even though the air rushing past him is as hot as the rest of it, it's almost refreshing.
"Hey there, man," Eliot eventually rolls up in a sedan with a knowing smirk, flashing the earbud he's got pinched between his fingers. "I'll get you where you need to be."
The windows are down and the air conditioner's on, but the car's been sitting in the sun all day. For a moment, his head's reeling from it. Telling others they're clear, listening to make sure that it sounds like they've got their roles under control, he signs off and takes out his earpiece. The tie, jacket and vest follow immediately thereafter, and Eliot's eyes are on the road, but his left hand's leaving dark smudges on Alec's shirt as he tugs and yanks and works the buttons open.
"Told him I'm taking my lunch break once I drop you off," Eliot says, dragging his fingertips to slide slickly against Alec's stomach, teasing like he's been doing. "Think you an' me got time for a shower?"
Alec wants to slide his hand between the backrest and the sweat he knows is pooling at the base of Eliot's spine, wants to do a lot of things. But the hotel shower and the clean sheets, the air conditioning and the next hour or so- are only seven blocks away. He can wait that long.