The Everlasting, Chapter 7
Title: The Everlasting
Rating: NC-17 (woohoo!)
Spoilers: Up through end of season 2
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Warnings: None for *this* chapter...
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait in between posts! RL is a cruel mistress, indeed!
Story starts here.
Chapter 6, in case you've forgotten what the hell is going on. And really, who could blame you?
Chapter 7
Eliot wasn't back yet.
After emptying the cupboards into boxes and bags, Alec was left pondering which clothes to take and which to discard. Didn't give it overmuch thought, though. Hell, if things went all right, he'd be able to grab more later. And if not? Affordable loss.
The postcard from under his bed went in last. Admitting his superstition, he didn't look at it as he slid it between the socks and the side of the bag.
Moving had never been so easy, he decided, setting the bags side by side on the table in the break room, but there was no sense of accomplishment.
Eliot still wasn't back.
---
The giggling behind him gave it all away, and Eliot spun on his heel, scowl already in place.
"Dammit, Parker! What the hell, are you tryin' to give me a heart attack or something?"
"Been following you since you left Hardison's," she said, the grin still playing at the edges of her mouth. "When you left, earlier, Lucinda said that Cornelius had been spotted heading over there. Went to check up on you guys."
Eliot bit the inside of his lip in annoyance, but he was too tired to put up much of a fight. "You should have stayed there, kept an eye out while I was gone."
"Would have, but it was easier to take out the guy that was watching the place. Figured it was best to follow you back in case you picked up a tail."
"Yeah?" Eliot hadn't noticed, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Your people didn't see you, you know," he pointed out instead, following her inside.
"They're good, but I'm better. What happened over at Hardison's?"
"Cornelius wants the post office. We're moving out, but Hardison's going to work for them. Well. You know."
"Could be useful. You can both crash here if you want," she offered, waving her hand around vaguely. "Plenty of room."
"Actually, I was hoping you knew of somewhere else. If the deal goes to hell, nobody's gonna want it brought back here."
Parker stared out the cafeteria windows as she gave it some thought. "I've got a backup hideout out in that neighborhood if you want. There's water, but no power other than one generator and a few week's worth of fuel."
"That works," Eliot confirmed, and Parker pulled a key out of her back pocket, and one from her shoe. "Basement of the Sovereign Bank, Beacon and Charles, but you get into the building through the last window on Bryant. The keys will get you inside. The generator's on the third floor, and there's water in the basement. Don't waste your time with the vault," she yawned, "it's boring."
"Cool. Thanks," he said, pocketing the keys. "Anyway. That wasn't the only reason I'm here. Was wondering if anyone's seen Cornelius coming by this way after he left Hardison's?"
"Saw them heading east from Hardison's," Parker shook her head. "Don't know if it's because they think they've got the west side sewn up, now, or if something's starting to go down in the harbor, but for the past few days, it's been quiet on the west side."
"Shit," Eliot contemplated the long hike back past Alec's and out to the harbor. "You know where they stay out there?"
"They've got a base on one of the dead ships. You went out there now, you'd know which one. I don't know if they've gotten it fully operable, but there's fuel in the generators enough to power the search lights."
"Shit." As defensive positions went, it was unimpeachable, without a hell of a lot of groundwork. Boats were easily spotted, even at night, and submarines? Hard to come by, even if he could find the people to run it. Scuba it was, then. Diving.
Fucking hell.
---
Alec wasn't sure that he didn't jump when he heard the door slam shut downstairs, but a few moments later, Eliot's voice was calling out.
"I'm up here," he said, finding his cool and setting another packed bag on the floor next to the bed. He listened to his steps on the stairs. "You find a place?"
"Yeah, Parker's hooking us up. The Sovereign, over on Beacon. We can head over whenever we want, she said."
"Sounds good."
"There's another thing," Eliot said, leaning against the doorway. "She thinks Cornelius is out at the harbor, now. On one of the ships. I can get out there, but I'm gonna need diving gear."
"I knew it," Alec shook his head and turned. "You went looking for him, didn't you?"
Eliot set his shoulders back, but he looked more exhausted than defiant. And he was holding out, if his eyes were any indication. "I asked some questions."
"I don't get it, man," Alec pulled his shoes off and sat on the edge of the mattress. "You know we can just wait and see what they're planning when they get here."
"You gonna be satisfied with whatever bullshit they're selling?"
"Fair point." Alec thought for a moment, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "You know, by the time we manage to find the gear to get you out playing Aquaman the Idiot, they'll already be moved in, here. They'll be tracking me, and probably you, too. We don't have a guaranteed channel of communication."
"Other than the new hideout," Eliot argued around a yawn, pushing himself into the room and pulling the door closed behind him. "Wish we had ear buds or something."
"You and me both. Preferably with Nate on the line. Hell, a phone call would be nice. At least figure out where he's at, you know?" Alec waited while Eliot finished undressing, watching for signs of further injury, but finding none. It was distraction that had him moving so slowly.
"I can get a call out," He hung his head, grinning, before crawling into bed.
Like Alec was going to feel like sleeping, now, or something.
"What?" He shot up. "This? This would have been worth knowing, before."
"Yeah. The guard post at the border. They wanted me to re-up my enlistment when I came through. Thought Sophie's letter was a sealed order. I go out there, tell them I need to call my C.O., they'll probably hook me up. Soph said that there was a solid military presence at Nate's prison, so I can at least find out if he's still there. Maybe talk to him, see what he thinks."
"That's what I'm talkin' about!" Alec clapped his hands together and fell back against the pillow, watching as the room went dark, edging to the side to make room for Eliot, his mind spinning out in five directions all at once. Once they were both settled, he asked, "Eliot, man. how many phones they got?"
"A few, probably. They wanted to give me a gun."
"Yeah, but that's not-"
"If I re-upped, they'd need a way to transmit orders. And from what I saw there, they were waiting for a bunch of other guys like me, so…"
Eliot trailed off as he shifted one too-bony shoulder into Alec's ribs, forcing him to move over, but Alec barely noticed, too busy feeling the nearly-forgotten sensation of his brain coming fully online. He wasn't anywhere near having a plan, yet, but he was close, and judging by the muted laughter, Eliot knew it too.
And judging by the kiss, he approved, whatever the plan was.
---
Even now, it was still too early in the morning for any of this, but they'd loaded everything they owned into two hiking packs and a little red wagon all the same.
Parker had done some work here, already. There was a mattress on the floor, blankets folded neatly in the center, and there was a plastic basket full of soaps from what looked to be several hotels sitting by the door. True to her word, in the supply closet, he found the generator, and several gallons of fuel, as well as a neat row of packs of batteries. Three shelves had been cleared for a collection of books about animals, so their entertainment was covered. They were about as set as they could ever hope to be.
He didn't know what the five boxes of mismatched spoons were for, but they could have been sitting there when Parker found the place. Unlikely, but possible.
"Reminds me of a place I used to have in Chicago," Alec said, nodding his head back towards the stairwell. "Lived right by the stadium, and on moving day there was so much traffic, everyone going to see the Cubs get their asses handed to them by the Brewers, that I had to haul everything I owned three blocks. Couldn't find a parking spot."
Eliot laughed. "Ball games, man. Shit. I miss them. Football. Basketball. Hell. We missed the World Cup. Wanted to hit that this year." Eliot rummaged through the duffel bags until he could find the handful of kitchen utensils Alec had packed. "Don't even know where the final games happened."
"Does it matter?" Alec was shoving office supplies aside in one of the cabinets to make room for their groceries.
In another bag, open, on the floor at Alec's feet, Eliot caught the dull glint of an M9 packed in between the socks and T-shirts.
Not now, man. Deal with it later. "At this point? No. Long as it's not in Texas or something, anywhere would be better than here, right?"
"Yeah," Alec agreed.
"Next year, for sure. Hell, why wait, right? Should just go back to Brazil this winter, catch some street games."
"Weather should be nice," Alec said, but this time, there was something different in his tone as he closed the cupboard. Eliot hazarded a guess.
"So you're hell bent on staying out the winter?"
"Yeah. Got any better ideas?" Alec pushed the desk to the side of the room. It was clear he didn't want to be having this conversation, and it was beginning to piss Eliot off.
"Ah, yeah. Getting the hell out of here." Because that, he realized just then, had been his entire point in coming. Find Hardison and Parker, get them somewhere safe, somewhere where they didn't have to fight to freakin' survive.
Hardison frowned, the empty bag hanging from his hand. "And go where? You know a place that's not all Mad-Maxed out right now?"
"The rest of the world, for one."
"Screw the rest of the world. Even when Cornelius is gone, we're still gonna have work to do here."
"You do," Eliot said, knowing full well that he was steering the conversation through the roadblock and off the cliff. "Don't know what the hell I'm supposed to be doing, here."
Alec's nostrils flared, but he remained silent for a long time. "Make it up as you go along, same as everyone," he shrugged, and turned back to the cabinets. Decision made, apparently, like that was the end of it, but he wasn't looking at Eliot anymore.
We could leave. Get out of here. We could do a hell of a lot better than we're doing, Eliot thought to Alec's retreating back. It's not the whole world that's ended. Alec was heading back down the stairs, but he wasn't going to leave.
If Eliot wanted to go, he'd be going it alone. "I'm heading down for the last load," he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder and giving the room another once-over. "Be right back."
---
Eliot was just heading back to the landing, Alec knew that, but it didn't stop him from watching him disappear down the stairs like it was goodbye.
And he was pissed, so much that he didn't even know why until he heard Eliot's steps coming back up the stairs, and he didn't give him time to set the bag down before he started talking.
"You're tired. I get that, I'm tired too, and this place sucks. But we've got a job to do, too. You don't want that, you're free to bail, but I never saw you as the runnin' type, man."
In his anger, he'd forgotten how scary Eliot could be when he was annoyed. The amusement in his eyes at the prospect of fighting some hired thug was nowhere to be seen, now. There was no smirk, no "come on," just a set jaw and silence. Alec knew when he was being sized up, but he had no idea what Eliot was about to do. If he made the slightest of moves, he'd probably get his ass handed to him in a cold hard fashion. Deer, meet headlights.
But hell, Eliot was the one that was wimping out. He was going to run, again, leaving him holding the bag. He didn't get to play the bully, right now. Hardison wasn't going to allow him that satisfaction.
It didn't mean he enjoyed holding Eliot's glare while he waited for the reaction. Not in the least. Not for this freakin' long.
He'd known he wasn't going to like whatever it was that came next. He hadn't known how much until it actually happened.
Eliot dropped his eyes first. "Yeah. You got a point," he said, and stooped down to let the heavy bag slide from his shoulder to the floor. Wincing as he rose, his eyes traveled up towards Alec's face, but stopped short of his eyes.
They were supposed to be shouting at each other by now, and Alec hadn't been ready for this. He didn't know where to go from there, and from the looks of it, Eliot wasn't, either. He just stood there, rolling his neck a little, either distracted or needing the distraction.
"Hey," Alec tried, smirking, but Eliot's glance said that he didn't get the joke. "Come on." He stepped past him and out into the hallway, back towards the office he'd seen. Some executive had probably done something important, here, once, but it was one of the lower backed chairs across the desk that Alec was interested in.
"Sit down," he said, earning a quizzical glance at last, but Eliot sat without question. His hackles weren't raised until Alec stepped behind him, wrapping his hands over his shoulders and squeezing tight.
Relaxing his grip once, then squeezing again, and Eliot seemed to catch on. He shifted in the chair, making himself comfortable, and finally, Hardison could get to work. He'd already found three knots, and he'd barely moved his hands, yet.
----
Despite himself, Eliot followed Alec's orders, pulling his shirts off and dropping them in a heap on the floor next to him. He opened his mouth to speak, some part of him still remembering, evidently, that they still had things to talk about, but Alec's fingers were digging into the base of his neck and the aching robbed him of his voice.
"Uh-huh," Alec muttered to himself, and his hands began to move. Whatever they'd been talking about wasn't something that couldn't be put off, anyhow. Not really. It'd keep for a while. The pain eased for a moment as Alec shifted, and it was easier not to think, anyhow.
Hoy hell the sudden pressure just below his collarbone was a bitch, but the drag of Alec's hands, moving down over his skin made up for it.
"I'm an idiot," Alec said, suddenly withdrawing his hands. "Let's get you lying down, alright?"
"Yeah," Eliot stood, reluctantly, and let himself be steered towards the mattress, wondering if he was going to fall asleep the moment he was off his feet. Hoping not.
Might not be too many more times like this, he reasoned, feeling Alec's fingers combing his hair to the side to get at his neck. Take advantage while you can.
Alec worked down his arms, first, then over his back, covering everything but the worst of the bruises, pressing hard where he needed to, ghosting over when he didn't.
It was warm, lying on the too-soft mattress with Hardison straddling his legs. The windows could probably be opened at some point, but for now, it was comfortable, and getting better.
Another ten minutes falling under the rhythm of Alec's hands, and the windows were too far away to contemplate. Standing wasn't happening any time soon.
"You falling asleep?" There was too much humor in his tone for Alec's monotone to come through.
"No."
"You can, you know."
"Yeah," Eliot murmured, opening his eyes as the last of the knots were released, because any moment now, Alec was going to stop.
Eliot hadn't expected to miss it so much, miss him so much, and it hadn't even happened, yet. But already Alec's touches were lightening, his weight was starting to shift back and away.
On the plus side, it gave Eliot the advantage and he pushed himself up to one side, reaching back to steady Alec and tugging him down to the mattress.
"Hey," Alec said, once the surprise had passed.
"Hey." Eliot said, temporarily exhausted by his efforts. Alec was a little too good at his job.
"Moving like that? You know you probably just undid-"
Eliot kissed him, then, mostly getting his bottom lip, but Alec caught on, quick- he was smart like that- and got with the program, too. Shifted a bit, rolled his shoulder and kissed him back, harder than before, at first, but after a few moments, he slowed.
What now?
Eliot pulled back, barely, and he knew that he was scowling, but he didn't know what the fuck Alec's problem was. Alec's eyes weren't giving all that much away, they were taking everything in.
"Nothing," Alec said, nodding in satisfaction at whatever he'd found, and crushed back into him.
Least he didn't want to talk, Eliot decided, and caught at his mouth, biting, a little, in revenge, before trailing down Alec's throat.
---
It wasn't like Alec believed in some magical power of make-up sex or anything, and really, he wasn't sure if that's what this was, but he'd had to be sure. And he still didn't know if Eliot was going to stay, but he was here, now, with his hips lodged firmly against Alec's own, and pulling his collar aside to get at his collarbone.
It was Eliot who began the removal of most of their clothing, but without the knots holding his muscles together, his movements were lax, uncoordinated, and both sets of hands kept taking eager detours towards hips, thighs, shoulders. Everywhere.
Alec was able to finagle himself halfway out of his jeans before the thought dawned, somewhat disappointingly, that Eliot probably hadn't brought lube, either, and he was going to point it out, but Eliot was taking him in hand and-
Hell, he didn't even have to squeeze. The merest drag of fingertips over long-ignored flesh had Alec stuttering back against the mattress. A startled breath or two later, he relaxed into it, and began trying to get his hands where they'd be the most appreciated, because reciprocation was this thing they'd had, back in the day, but there was no room to move. He couldn't reach.
Eliot knew it, too, sliding back down to nip at the side of Alec's chest, all the while watching him with this grin that was positively wolfish. He twisted his wrist, dragging his palm over the crown, and Alec had to clamp his jaw tight to stop himself from saying something about Little Red Riding Hood.
He'd never live it down, and Eliot was looking a little too smug already as he captured Alec's mouth again, lips pressing rough and perfect, wet and open and stealing his air until he didn't care any more. About that at least.
Alec tried to twist his shoulder so that he could reach the hardness pressed into his thigh, but Eliot only shifted away again. Alec leaned back on his elbows, and was about to ask-
"In a bit. Need to see you. First." Eliot murmured, his eyes nearly shifting away, but not quite, and if Eliot could manage it, Alec could too, damn it.
But what the hell to you say to that?
The strokes were steady, now, coming a little faster, and Alec felt himself twitching, canting his hips up, trying to get closer, trying for more friction that just wasn't there, because Eliot was pulling back again, shifting, sliding down, his eyes only moving away at the last second.
Fuck, Alec had just tasted that mouth and now it was tasting him, slow wet drag on the underside, tongue and lips and sliding fingers and if he didn't look away from what he could see through the sheaf of long hair that needed to be pushed aside, this was going to end too damned soon.
His breath caught in his chest and he gasped, but it hadn't been so long that Eliot had forgotten how to speak the language. He glanced up, tossing his hair back with his free hand.
And once he was sure of Alec's attention, he licked his lips, opened his smirking mouth and slid down, smooth, eyes intense and determined as he set a new rhythm. Alec couldn't have looked away even if he'd really wanted to, couldn't conceive of anything other than swirling warm damp, the accidental touch of teeth.
His hips jerked again, hard, his cock nudging a little too tightly against the back of Eliot's throat, and it was the sound Eliot made, that startled gagging moan, that shoved him towards the edge, even as he tried to pull away.
"Gonna-" he said, but Eliot was ahead of him, as usual, his mouth sliding off even as his hand increased it's pace.
His eyes were still burning through him, like he was the only thing in Eliot's world.
Alec crashed, hard.
---
The aftershocks hadn't settled yet, and though he'd eased over to the side, Eliot was still pressed against him and still hard. Alec had to crane his neck to see his face, finding his eyes starting to drift away, more shy than bored, and fuck Alec wanted to do everything in the world to him. Whatever he wanted.
Finally, Alec was able to get his arm free, finally able to reach, make contact. Eliot closed his eyes and he curled into the touch until his forehead pressed into Alec's arm, like Alec had known he would.
"What do you want?" he asked, fingers curling around to slide towards the base.
Eliot nodded against him, and Alec thought he could feel his lashes blink.
"This. Hands," he said, quiet like it was some sort of secret. "Hands are good."
"'Kay," Alec said, but the angle wasn't all that it could be. "Need to sit up, though." He pushed himself up against the wall, adjusting the pillows behind his back, and Eliot let himself be manhandled into position between Alec's knees, his back against Alec's chest.
Alec wrapped his arms around him, one hand meandering over the planes of his chest and stomach as the other slid along Eliot's cock, all the way down, fingers massaging small circles at his base before pulling up, gently, as slow as he could manage.
Eliot's head fell back against his shoulder and he growled, low and frustrated already. "Dammit, Hardison…"
Eliot couldn't see his face right then, so Alec let himself grin. Tapped some Morse code against his length until he could feel the tension coiling in Eliot's back.
And then, because he wasn't an idiot, he began again, keeping his strokes light while his other hand slid up Eliot's chest and neck and jaw until his fingertips were kissing the side of his mouth.
Eliot turned his head and kissed them back, wetting them as best he could.
Under his other hand, Eliot's cock was already becoming slick with pre-come, and the added wetness was enough for Alec to smooth him once, twice, before beginning a slowly increasing pace. Eliot breathed in time, for a while, until it was too fast to match and his inhalations were too erratic by then anyway.
He was getting close, and Alec stroked down the crease of his thigh, pulling his legs apart even more, and he meant to do more than brush his thumb along the underside of Eliot's balls, but it was too late, he was coming already, and Alec was too busy stroking him through it to remember to let go of his thigh.
---
There were bruises, after, plain as day. Eliot didn't seem to mind. But he groaned, though, after waking Alec from a light doze with a grumbled "shit."
Alec's eyes flew open. "What?"
"Phones," Eliot groaned.
"Right." Alec sat up, looked out the window as if he'd learned how to tell time from the sun. "You want me to come with you?"
"Nah," Eliot answered, stretching. "Should be able to move faster solo."
"Okay," Alec said, then hoped Eliot didn't catch his despondent tone.
Eliot just shook his head, though, and smiled, reaching out to stroke idly along Alec's back. "Sooner I'm gone, the sooner I'm back."
---
Even with Alec's carefully scrawled map of Mica's mail route to the border, it had taken a good chunk of the afternoon for Eliot to get across town.
Eliot had been in a good mood- a really good mood- when he'd started, but that had been hours ago, when he'd still been coming down, before the reality of, well, reality had set in again.
Another fire had broken out, overnight, probably. He could smell it for blocks, even before seeing the still smoldering husk of the building.
It could have been worse, could have spread further, if the parking lot surrounding it hadn't been so big. Eliot racked his brain, trying to remember what had stood there, but he kept being distracted by the smell of burnt flesh.
He might have been imagining it, and anyway, he didn't have time to stop and inspect, not with so many unknown onlookers standing down the block, staring at the remains.
Cutting through the long-since-ransacked library, the smell of mold erased the previous stench, and he was relieved to reach the street on the other side.
There were people here, too. It never seemed like it, but there were always people. They stuck to the walls as they walked, darted into alleys when he drew near. He found himself following suit, a little more than he wanted to.
Someone was sobbing on the second floor of the parking garage. He could still hear it a block and a half down. Nobody else stopped either.
Near the guard post, though, Eliot noticed that everyone was starting to stick to the open streets a little more. Maybe Cornelius' people were wary of waking that particular dragon just yet, or maybe they were planning on taking it later. There was no way to know.
He added it to the list of things he wanted to run by Hardison, tell him to keep his ears out once the trainees arrived at the post office, but up ahead at the corner of the block was the guard post, and two of them were already watching him approach.
---
He gave his name and serial and told the captain manning the checkpoint office that there should be new orders waiting for him.
He half hoped that there would be, and that they'd be written in Sophie's hand, but really, there was no reason to believe he'd have that much luck.
Unfortunately, he was right. He'd have to do this from scratch.
"That's odd," he said, scratching his head, glancing at Captain Vasquez. "Okay, here it is. Last orders said I was supposed to report back to the CO up at Ray Brook. From what I know, it's a newer installation, but it has communications up and running."
"Do you have the orders?"
"Destroyed them," Eliot admitted, forcing an apologetic expression. "I mean, I'd been on the road for months, when I got here. Wasn't thinking too clear, and wasn't lookin' to get called back in, you know?"
Vasquez sighed, and Eliot was in. "More than you can ever imagine." He stood up, beckoning him to head towards the office in back, where among other things, a phone sat on the desk, next to a large binder, which he proceeded to flip through.
"Ah, okay, got it. Listed as an FCI installation. Yeah, there's a number." He picked up the phone and dialed before handing it over.
For a minute, it seemed like this was going to be easy. Then someone picked up.
Eliot spent the next hour and a half being routed and rerouted through different offices, and all he could find out, eventually, was that the inmate in question had been released on a commuted sentence.
It took another half hour to find out who was acting as proxy for the Governor of New York, since he'd been dead for months, and after that, another twenty to find out that the General back at Ray Brook was the one to organize it, in return for services rendered. Eliot didn't know what that meant, but it didn't matter. If Nate was out, then they'd be coming, soon. Maybe they were already on their way.
It took everything he remembered learning from Sophie to talk the General into giving him what he needed, but it was worth it, because the moment he handed over the phone, Vasquez merely listened and followed orders.
"Come with me, and we'll get you set," he said, heading towards a large steel cabinet.
Inside were guns. Lots of them, and some medical supplies. Most importantly, by the end of it, the cabinet was short three satellite phones- the one he was given and the two that he pinched while Vasquez was showing him how to turn the first one on.
It was dark by the time he was finally getting ready to head back. Before he left, though, Vasquez wanted to know if he needed any more ammunition.
Eliot glanced out the window. There was another fire somewhere, down to the south, turning that corner of sunset a brighter orange. It might not have been anything. Might have been everything someone'd had left. Boston was still fucked.
"Yeah," he said, thinking back to the gun he'd seen packed in with Alec's clothes. "M9. Whatever you can spare."
---
Chapter 8
Rating: NC-17 (woohoo!)
Spoilers: Up through end of season 2
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Warnings: None for *this* chapter...
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait in between posts! RL is a cruel mistress, indeed!
Story starts here.
Chapter 6, in case you've forgotten what the hell is going on. And really, who could blame you?
Chapter 7
Eliot wasn't back yet.
After emptying the cupboards into boxes and bags, Alec was left pondering which clothes to take and which to discard. Didn't give it overmuch thought, though. Hell, if things went all right, he'd be able to grab more later. And if not? Affordable loss.
The postcard from under his bed went in last. Admitting his superstition, he didn't look at it as he slid it between the socks and the side of the bag.
Moving had never been so easy, he decided, setting the bags side by side on the table in the break room, but there was no sense of accomplishment.
Eliot still wasn't back.
---
The giggling behind him gave it all away, and Eliot spun on his heel, scowl already in place.
"Dammit, Parker! What the hell, are you tryin' to give me a heart attack or something?"
"Been following you since you left Hardison's," she said, the grin still playing at the edges of her mouth. "When you left, earlier, Lucinda said that Cornelius had been spotted heading over there. Went to check up on you guys."
Eliot bit the inside of his lip in annoyance, but he was too tired to put up much of a fight. "You should have stayed there, kept an eye out while I was gone."
"Would have, but it was easier to take out the guy that was watching the place. Figured it was best to follow you back in case you picked up a tail."
"Yeah?" Eliot hadn't noticed, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Your people didn't see you, you know," he pointed out instead, following her inside.
"They're good, but I'm better. What happened over at Hardison's?"
"Cornelius wants the post office. We're moving out, but Hardison's going to work for them. Well. You know."
"Could be useful. You can both crash here if you want," she offered, waving her hand around vaguely. "Plenty of room."
"Actually, I was hoping you knew of somewhere else. If the deal goes to hell, nobody's gonna want it brought back here."
Parker stared out the cafeteria windows as she gave it some thought. "I've got a backup hideout out in that neighborhood if you want. There's water, but no power other than one generator and a few week's worth of fuel."
"That works," Eliot confirmed, and Parker pulled a key out of her back pocket, and one from her shoe. "Basement of the Sovereign Bank, Beacon and Charles, but you get into the building through the last window on Bryant. The keys will get you inside. The generator's on the third floor, and there's water in the basement. Don't waste your time with the vault," she yawned, "it's boring."
"Cool. Thanks," he said, pocketing the keys. "Anyway. That wasn't the only reason I'm here. Was wondering if anyone's seen Cornelius coming by this way after he left Hardison's?"
"Saw them heading east from Hardison's," Parker shook her head. "Don't know if it's because they think they've got the west side sewn up, now, or if something's starting to go down in the harbor, but for the past few days, it's been quiet on the west side."
"Shit," Eliot contemplated the long hike back past Alec's and out to the harbor. "You know where they stay out there?"
"They've got a base on one of the dead ships. You went out there now, you'd know which one. I don't know if they've gotten it fully operable, but there's fuel in the generators enough to power the search lights."
"Shit." As defensive positions went, it was unimpeachable, without a hell of a lot of groundwork. Boats were easily spotted, even at night, and submarines? Hard to come by, even if he could find the people to run it. Scuba it was, then. Diving.
Fucking hell.
---
Alec wasn't sure that he didn't jump when he heard the door slam shut downstairs, but a few moments later, Eliot's voice was calling out.
"I'm up here," he said, finding his cool and setting another packed bag on the floor next to the bed. He listened to his steps on the stairs. "You find a place?"
"Yeah, Parker's hooking us up. The Sovereign, over on Beacon. We can head over whenever we want, she said."
"Sounds good."
"There's another thing," Eliot said, leaning against the doorway. "She thinks Cornelius is out at the harbor, now. On one of the ships. I can get out there, but I'm gonna need diving gear."
"I knew it," Alec shook his head and turned. "You went looking for him, didn't you?"
Eliot set his shoulders back, but he looked more exhausted than defiant. And he was holding out, if his eyes were any indication. "I asked some questions."
"I don't get it, man," Alec pulled his shoes off and sat on the edge of the mattress. "You know we can just wait and see what they're planning when they get here."
"You gonna be satisfied with whatever bullshit they're selling?"
"Fair point." Alec thought for a moment, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "You know, by the time we manage to find the gear to get you out playing Aquaman the Idiot, they'll already be moved in, here. They'll be tracking me, and probably you, too. We don't have a guaranteed channel of communication."
"Other than the new hideout," Eliot argued around a yawn, pushing himself into the room and pulling the door closed behind him. "Wish we had ear buds or something."
"You and me both. Preferably with Nate on the line. Hell, a phone call would be nice. At least figure out where he's at, you know?" Alec waited while Eliot finished undressing, watching for signs of further injury, but finding none. It was distraction that had him moving so slowly.
"I can get a call out," He hung his head, grinning, before crawling into bed.
Like Alec was going to feel like sleeping, now, or something.
"What?" He shot up. "This? This would have been worth knowing, before."
"Yeah. The guard post at the border. They wanted me to re-up my enlistment when I came through. Thought Sophie's letter was a sealed order. I go out there, tell them I need to call my C.O., they'll probably hook me up. Soph said that there was a solid military presence at Nate's prison, so I can at least find out if he's still there. Maybe talk to him, see what he thinks."
"That's what I'm talkin' about!" Alec clapped his hands together and fell back against the pillow, watching as the room went dark, edging to the side to make room for Eliot, his mind spinning out in five directions all at once. Once they were both settled, he asked, "Eliot, man. how many phones they got?"
"A few, probably. They wanted to give me a gun."
"Yeah, but that's not-"
"If I re-upped, they'd need a way to transmit orders. And from what I saw there, they were waiting for a bunch of other guys like me, so…"
Eliot trailed off as he shifted one too-bony shoulder into Alec's ribs, forcing him to move over, but Alec barely noticed, too busy feeling the nearly-forgotten sensation of his brain coming fully online. He wasn't anywhere near having a plan, yet, but he was close, and judging by the muted laughter, Eliot knew it too.
And judging by the kiss, he approved, whatever the plan was.
---
Even now, it was still too early in the morning for any of this, but they'd loaded everything they owned into two hiking packs and a little red wagon all the same.
Parker had done some work here, already. There was a mattress on the floor, blankets folded neatly in the center, and there was a plastic basket full of soaps from what looked to be several hotels sitting by the door. True to her word, in the supply closet, he found the generator, and several gallons of fuel, as well as a neat row of packs of batteries. Three shelves had been cleared for a collection of books about animals, so their entertainment was covered. They were about as set as they could ever hope to be.
He didn't know what the five boxes of mismatched spoons were for, but they could have been sitting there when Parker found the place. Unlikely, but possible.
"Reminds me of a place I used to have in Chicago," Alec said, nodding his head back towards the stairwell. "Lived right by the stadium, and on moving day there was so much traffic, everyone going to see the Cubs get their asses handed to them by the Brewers, that I had to haul everything I owned three blocks. Couldn't find a parking spot."
Eliot laughed. "Ball games, man. Shit. I miss them. Football. Basketball. Hell. We missed the World Cup. Wanted to hit that this year." Eliot rummaged through the duffel bags until he could find the handful of kitchen utensils Alec had packed. "Don't even know where the final games happened."
"Does it matter?" Alec was shoving office supplies aside in one of the cabinets to make room for their groceries.
In another bag, open, on the floor at Alec's feet, Eliot caught the dull glint of an M9 packed in between the socks and T-shirts.
Not now, man. Deal with it later. "At this point? No. Long as it's not in Texas or something, anywhere would be better than here, right?"
"Yeah," Alec agreed.
"Next year, for sure. Hell, why wait, right? Should just go back to Brazil this winter, catch some street games."
"Weather should be nice," Alec said, but this time, there was something different in his tone as he closed the cupboard. Eliot hazarded a guess.
"So you're hell bent on staying out the winter?"
"Yeah. Got any better ideas?" Alec pushed the desk to the side of the room. It was clear he didn't want to be having this conversation, and it was beginning to piss Eliot off.
"Ah, yeah. Getting the hell out of here." Because that, he realized just then, had been his entire point in coming. Find Hardison and Parker, get them somewhere safe, somewhere where they didn't have to fight to freakin' survive.
Hardison frowned, the empty bag hanging from his hand. "And go where? You know a place that's not all Mad-Maxed out right now?"
"The rest of the world, for one."
"Screw the rest of the world. Even when Cornelius is gone, we're still gonna have work to do here."
"You do," Eliot said, knowing full well that he was steering the conversation through the roadblock and off the cliff. "Don't know what the hell I'm supposed to be doing, here."
Alec's nostrils flared, but he remained silent for a long time. "Make it up as you go along, same as everyone," he shrugged, and turned back to the cabinets. Decision made, apparently, like that was the end of it, but he wasn't looking at Eliot anymore.
We could leave. Get out of here. We could do a hell of a lot better than we're doing, Eliot thought to Alec's retreating back. It's not the whole world that's ended. Alec was heading back down the stairs, but he wasn't going to leave.
If Eliot wanted to go, he'd be going it alone. "I'm heading down for the last load," he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder and giving the room another once-over. "Be right back."
---
Eliot was just heading back to the landing, Alec knew that, but it didn't stop him from watching him disappear down the stairs like it was goodbye.
And he was pissed, so much that he didn't even know why until he heard Eliot's steps coming back up the stairs, and he didn't give him time to set the bag down before he started talking.
"You're tired. I get that, I'm tired too, and this place sucks. But we've got a job to do, too. You don't want that, you're free to bail, but I never saw you as the runnin' type, man."
In his anger, he'd forgotten how scary Eliot could be when he was annoyed. The amusement in his eyes at the prospect of fighting some hired thug was nowhere to be seen, now. There was no smirk, no "come on," just a set jaw and silence. Alec knew when he was being sized up, but he had no idea what Eliot was about to do. If he made the slightest of moves, he'd probably get his ass handed to him in a cold hard fashion. Deer, meet headlights.
But hell, Eliot was the one that was wimping out. He was going to run, again, leaving him holding the bag. He didn't get to play the bully, right now. Hardison wasn't going to allow him that satisfaction.
It didn't mean he enjoyed holding Eliot's glare while he waited for the reaction. Not in the least. Not for this freakin' long.
He'd known he wasn't going to like whatever it was that came next. He hadn't known how much until it actually happened.
Eliot dropped his eyes first. "Yeah. You got a point," he said, and stooped down to let the heavy bag slide from his shoulder to the floor. Wincing as he rose, his eyes traveled up towards Alec's face, but stopped short of his eyes.
They were supposed to be shouting at each other by now, and Alec hadn't been ready for this. He didn't know where to go from there, and from the looks of it, Eliot wasn't, either. He just stood there, rolling his neck a little, either distracted or needing the distraction.
"Hey," Alec tried, smirking, but Eliot's glance said that he didn't get the joke. "Come on." He stepped past him and out into the hallway, back towards the office he'd seen. Some executive had probably done something important, here, once, but it was one of the lower backed chairs across the desk that Alec was interested in.
"Sit down," he said, earning a quizzical glance at last, but Eliot sat without question. His hackles weren't raised until Alec stepped behind him, wrapping his hands over his shoulders and squeezing tight.
Relaxing his grip once, then squeezing again, and Eliot seemed to catch on. He shifted in the chair, making himself comfortable, and finally, Hardison could get to work. He'd already found three knots, and he'd barely moved his hands, yet.
----
Despite himself, Eliot followed Alec's orders, pulling his shirts off and dropping them in a heap on the floor next to him. He opened his mouth to speak, some part of him still remembering, evidently, that they still had things to talk about, but Alec's fingers were digging into the base of his neck and the aching robbed him of his voice.
"Uh-huh," Alec muttered to himself, and his hands began to move. Whatever they'd been talking about wasn't something that couldn't be put off, anyhow. Not really. It'd keep for a while. The pain eased for a moment as Alec shifted, and it was easier not to think, anyhow.
Hoy hell the sudden pressure just below his collarbone was a bitch, but the drag of Alec's hands, moving down over his skin made up for it.
"I'm an idiot," Alec said, suddenly withdrawing his hands. "Let's get you lying down, alright?"
"Yeah," Eliot stood, reluctantly, and let himself be steered towards the mattress, wondering if he was going to fall asleep the moment he was off his feet. Hoping not.
Might not be too many more times like this, he reasoned, feeling Alec's fingers combing his hair to the side to get at his neck. Take advantage while you can.
Alec worked down his arms, first, then over his back, covering everything but the worst of the bruises, pressing hard where he needed to, ghosting over when he didn't.
It was warm, lying on the too-soft mattress with Hardison straddling his legs. The windows could probably be opened at some point, but for now, it was comfortable, and getting better.
Another ten minutes falling under the rhythm of Alec's hands, and the windows were too far away to contemplate. Standing wasn't happening any time soon.
"You falling asleep?" There was too much humor in his tone for Alec's monotone to come through.
"No."
"You can, you know."
"Yeah," Eliot murmured, opening his eyes as the last of the knots were released, because any moment now, Alec was going to stop.
Eliot hadn't expected to miss it so much, miss him so much, and it hadn't even happened, yet. But already Alec's touches were lightening, his weight was starting to shift back and away.
On the plus side, it gave Eliot the advantage and he pushed himself up to one side, reaching back to steady Alec and tugging him down to the mattress.
"Hey," Alec said, once the surprise had passed.
"Hey." Eliot said, temporarily exhausted by his efforts. Alec was a little too good at his job.
"Moving like that? You know you probably just undid-"
Eliot kissed him, then, mostly getting his bottom lip, but Alec caught on, quick- he was smart like that- and got with the program, too. Shifted a bit, rolled his shoulder and kissed him back, harder than before, at first, but after a few moments, he slowed.
What now?
Eliot pulled back, barely, and he knew that he was scowling, but he didn't know what the fuck Alec's problem was. Alec's eyes weren't giving all that much away, they were taking everything in.
"Nothing," Alec said, nodding in satisfaction at whatever he'd found, and crushed back into him.
Least he didn't want to talk, Eliot decided, and caught at his mouth, biting, a little, in revenge, before trailing down Alec's throat.
---
It wasn't like Alec believed in some magical power of make-up sex or anything, and really, he wasn't sure if that's what this was, but he'd had to be sure. And he still didn't know if Eliot was going to stay, but he was here, now, with his hips lodged firmly against Alec's own, and pulling his collar aside to get at his collarbone.
It was Eliot who began the removal of most of their clothing, but without the knots holding his muscles together, his movements were lax, uncoordinated, and both sets of hands kept taking eager detours towards hips, thighs, shoulders. Everywhere.
Alec was able to finagle himself halfway out of his jeans before the thought dawned, somewhat disappointingly, that Eliot probably hadn't brought lube, either, and he was going to point it out, but Eliot was taking him in hand and-
Hell, he didn't even have to squeeze. The merest drag of fingertips over long-ignored flesh had Alec stuttering back against the mattress. A startled breath or two later, he relaxed into it, and began trying to get his hands where they'd be the most appreciated, because reciprocation was this thing they'd had, back in the day, but there was no room to move. He couldn't reach.
Eliot knew it, too, sliding back down to nip at the side of Alec's chest, all the while watching him with this grin that was positively wolfish. He twisted his wrist, dragging his palm over the crown, and Alec had to clamp his jaw tight to stop himself from saying something about Little Red Riding Hood.
He'd never live it down, and Eliot was looking a little too smug already as he captured Alec's mouth again, lips pressing rough and perfect, wet and open and stealing his air until he didn't care any more. About that at least.
Alec tried to twist his shoulder so that he could reach the hardness pressed into his thigh, but Eliot only shifted away again. Alec leaned back on his elbows, and was about to ask-
"In a bit. Need to see you. First." Eliot murmured, his eyes nearly shifting away, but not quite, and if Eliot could manage it, Alec could too, damn it.
But what the hell to you say to that?
The strokes were steady, now, coming a little faster, and Alec felt himself twitching, canting his hips up, trying to get closer, trying for more friction that just wasn't there, because Eliot was pulling back again, shifting, sliding down, his eyes only moving away at the last second.
Fuck, Alec had just tasted that mouth and now it was tasting him, slow wet drag on the underside, tongue and lips and sliding fingers and if he didn't look away from what he could see through the sheaf of long hair that needed to be pushed aside, this was going to end too damned soon.
His breath caught in his chest and he gasped, but it hadn't been so long that Eliot had forgotten how to speak the language. He glanced up, tossing his hair back with his free hand.
And once he was sure of Alec's attention, he licked his lips, opened his smirking mouth and slid down, smooth, eyes intense and determined as he set a new rhythm. Alec couldn't have looked away even if he'd really wanted to, couldn't conceive of anything other than swirling warm damp, the accidental touch of teeth.
His hips jerked again, hard, his cock nudging a little too tightly against the back of Eliot's throat, and it was the sound Eliot made, that startled gagging moan, that shoved him towards the edge, even as he tried to pull away.
"Gonna-" he said, but Eliot was ahead of him, as usual, his mouth sliding off even as his hand increased it's pace.
His eyes were still burning through him, like he was the only thing in Eliot's world.
Alec crashed, hard.
---
The aftershocks hadn't settled yet, and though he'd eased over to the side, Eliot was still pressed against him and still hard. Alec had to crane his neck to see his face, finding his eyes starting to drift away, more shy than bored, and fuck Alec wanted to do everything in the world to him. Whatever he wanted.
Finally, Alec was able to get his arm free, finally able to reach, make contact. Eliot closed his eyes and he curled into the touch until his forehead pressed into Alec's arm, like Alec had known he would.
"What do you want?" he asked, fingers curling around to slide towards the base.
Eliot nodded against him, and Alec thought he could feel his lashes blink.
"This. Hands," he said, quiet like it was some sort of secret. "Hands are good."
"'Kay," Alec said, but the angle wasn't all that it could be. "Need to sit up, though." He pushed himself up against the wall, adjusting the pillows behind his back, and Eliot let himself be manhandled into position between Alec's knees, his back against Alec's chest.
Alec wrapped his arms around him, one hand meandering over the planes of his chest and stomach as the other slid along Eliot's cock, all the way down, fingers massaging small circles at his base before pulling up, gently, as slow as he could manage.
Eliot's head fell back against his shoulder and he growled, low and frustrated already. "Dammit, Hardison…"
Eliot couldn't see his face right then, so Alec let himself grin. Tapped some Morse code against his length until he could feel the tension coiling in Eliot's back.
And then, because he wasn't an idiot, he began again, keeping his strokes light while his other hand slid up Eliot's chest and neck and jaw until his fingertips were kissing the side of his mouth.
Eliot turned his head and kissed them back, wetting them as best he could.
Under his other hand, Eliot's cock was already becoming slick with pre-come, and the added wetness was enough for Alec to smooth him once, twice, before beginning a slowly increasing pace. Eliot breathed in time, for a while, until it was too fast to match and his inhalations were too erratic by then anyway.
He was getting close, and Alec stroked down the crease of his thigh, pulling his legs apart even more, and he meant to do more than brush his thumb along the underside of Eliot's balls, but it was too late, he was coming already, and Alec was too busy stroking him through it to remember to let go of his thigh.
---
There were bruises, after, plain as day. Eliot didn't seem to mind. But he groaned, though, after waking Alec from a light doze with a grumbled "shit."
Alec's eyes flew open. "What?"
"Phones," Eliot groaned.
"Right." Alec sat up, looked out the window as if he'd learned how to tell time from the sun. "You want me to come with you?"
"Nah," Eliot answered, stretching. "Should be able to move faster solo."
"Okay," Alec said, then hoped Eliot didn't catch his despondent tone.
Eliot just shook his head, though, and smiled, reaching out to stroke idly along Alec's back. "Sooner I'm gone, the sooner I'm back."
---
Even with Alec's carefully scrawled map of Mica's mail route to the border, it had taken a good chunk of the afternoon for Eliot to get across town.
Eliot had been in a good mood- a really good mood- when he'd started, but that had been hours ago, when he'd still been coming down, before the reality of, well, reality had set in again.
Another fire had broken out, overnight, probably. He could smell it for blocks, even before seeing the still smoldering husk of the building.
It could have been worse, could have spread further, if the parking lot surrounding it hadn't been so big. Eliot racked his brain, trying to remember what had stood there, but he kept being distracted by the smell of burnt flesh.
He might have been imagining it, and anyway, he didn't have time to stop and inspect, not with so many unknown onlookers standing down the block, staring at the remains.
Cutting through the long-since-ransacked library, the smell of mold erased the previous stench, and he was relieved to reach the street on the other side.
There were people here, too. It never seemed like it, but there were always people. They stuck to the walls as they walked, darted into alleys when he drew near. He found himself following suit, a little more than he wanted to.
Someone was sobbing on the second floor of the parking garage. He could still hear it a block and a half down. Nobody else stopped either.
Near the guard post, though, Eliot noticed that everyone was starting to stick to the open streets a little more. Maybe Cornelius' people were wary of waking that particular dragon just yet, or maybe they were planning on taking it later. There was no way to know.
He added it to the list of things he wanted to run by Hardison, tell him to keep his ears out once the trainees arrived at the post office, but up ahead at the corner of the block was the guard post, and two of them were already watching him approach.
---
He gave his name and serial and told the captain manning the checkpoint office that there should be new orders waiting for him.
He half hoped that there would be, and that they'd be written in Sophie's hand, but really, there was no reason to believe he'd have that much luck.
Unfortunately, he was right. He'd have to do this from scratch.
"That's odd," he said, scratching his head, glancing at Captain Vasquez. "Okay, here it is. Last orders said I was supposed to report back to the CO up at Ray Brook. From what I know, it's a newer installation, but it has communications up and running."
"Do you have the orders?"
"Destroyed them," Eliot admitted, forcing an apologetic expression. "I mean, I'd been on the road for months, when I got here. Wasn't thinking too clear, and wasn't lookin' to get called back in, you know?"
Vasquez sighed, and Eliot was in. "More than you can ever imagine." He stood up, beckoning him to head towards the office in back, where among other things, a phone sat on the desk, next to a large binder, which he proceeded to flip through.
"Ah, okay, got it. Listed as an FCI installation. Yeah, there's a number." He picked up the phone and dialed before handing it over.
For a minute, it seemed like this was going to be easy. Then someone picked up.
Eliot spent the next hour and a half being routed and rerouted through different offices, and all he could find out, eventually, was that the inmate in question had been released on a commuted sentence.
It took another half hour to find out who was acting as proxy for the Governor of New York, since he'd been dead for months, and after that, another twenty to find out that the General back at Ray Brook was the one to organize it, in return for services rendered. Eliot didn't know what that meant, but it didn't matter. If Nate was out, then they'd be coming, soon. Maybe they were already on their way.
It took everything he remembered learning from Sophie to talk the General into giving him what he needed, but it was worth it, because the moment he handed over the phone, Vasquez merely listened and followed orders.
"Come with me, and we'll get you set," he said, heading towards a large steel cabinet.
Inside were guns. Lots of them, and some medical supplies. Most importantly, by the end of it, the cabinet was short three satellite phones- the one he was given and the two that he pinched while Vasquez was showing him how to turn the first one on.
It was dark by the time he was finally getting ready to head back. Before he left, though, Vasquez wanted to know if he needed any more ammunition.
Eliot glanced out the window. There was another fire somewhere, down to the south, turning that corner of sunset a brighter orange. It might not have been anything. Might have been everything someone'd had left. Boston was still fucked.
"Yeah," he said, thinking back to the gun he'd seen packed in with Alec's clothes. "M9. Whatever you can spare."
---
Chapter 8