sakura_no_miko

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Hardison/Parker, Hardison/Parker/Eliot

Warnings: violence, torture, character injury, explicit sex (bi)

Other notes: threesome, seduction, character study

Length: 16k

Summary: Eliot’s their hitter, and taking on any physical threats to the team is his job, but there’s something beyond professionalism – even beyond the obvious fact that Eliot relishes the fight itself – in the way he puts his body between Parker or Alec and any potential threat. Alec has a good view of Eliot’s back on a lot of jobs, and he reads something in the tight line of Eliot’s shoulder, in the slow turn of his foot as he steps into a fighting stance. Something possessive.

You know the thing with kink fic? I feel like a decent amount of the time, I don’t even care what the kink is, as long as there’s emotion behind it. Which is probably one of the reasons I prefer reading porn to watching it. I like to know what people are thinking and feeling.

Like, you take this one. I don’t always read the tags. So, the puppy play bit escaped me–at least until I read the sequel. It’s kind of fascinating–you go from hurt/comfort to some praise kink to puppy play, and it makes sense, as a continuum. It helps you understand the kink a bit more. You might not know that specific kink or why someone would like it, but you can see where it’s coming from.

Actually, the relationship is like that too–it takes them a while to get together, because there’s angst and reluctance. Not reluctance based on sexuality, or even on polyamory, just old fashioned “I’m not good enough” angst.

Also, it’s incredibly cute that the oldest member of the threesome is the one who gets babied. So cute. And the character details in this fic are amazing–so many glimpses and pieces.

I think this might be my favorite scene:

This, for some messed-up reason, makes Eliot laugh. "That’s it,“ he chuckles dryly. "That’s the thing exactly.” And then he reaches down and grips the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up to bare his chest. Alec’s confused by this gesture for a long moment, until he realizes that Eliot is trying to turn him off with this display.
There’s yellow-green bruising over Eliot’s ribs from the thing two weeks ago, and a red scar, still healing, from the slice of Barrett Kalder’s knife, the case before that. There are older scars, too, knives and bullets and fire, places where Eliot’s been dragged on rough pavement, places where his bones have shoved out through his skin.
“My dying day ain’t that far off,” he says. "I meant what I said to Nate. But I’m pushing forty, and some day soon you two will have to do without me. Or, you know, replace me.“ He looks away from Alec, then, down at his lap. "I ain’t the marrying kind,” he repeats, almost an apology, and Alec feels like there’s a slow explosion going on in his chest.

Like, sometimes you get those lines that are just perfect, you know. Just–Eliot takes his shirt off, and then Hardison has to realize, wait, this is supposed to be a bad thing. (As a viewer, let me reassure you: it’s never a bad thing.)

The cooking scene in the opening is a very close second, though. Just–it just makes me happy.

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Originally posted on tumblr on 02/07/15