Yay! I actually have reviews! (dies a little from happiness) okie dokie so, I'm not sure how much I like this one, but I decided to post it up anyway. Hope you enjoy ^^

The Prompt for this story was from Comment_fic and goes as follows:

Leverage, Eliot/Alec, Eliot isn't the only one with whip marks on his back

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing

Eliot walked back into their bedroom, a towel on his head and water droplets streaming lazily down his chest. He'd decided to take a shower after Hardison had finally fallen asleep after their...um...activities. He leaned against the dark wood dresser contentedly, small ripples of pleasure soared through his body as thoughts of Hardison's flexible limbs and want want wanting moans plagued his mind.

But as he turned his gaze back to Hardison's splayed body on the bed, and the moonlight that dripped onto his milk chocolate back revealed what seemed to be long, slightly discolored lines on his that went out in all directions, all sensuous thoughts were erased. As he walked closer, his feeling feelings were replaced with curiosity, anger, and probably most of all, concern. This was not a feeling Eliot could accept or bring himself to have easily, which only meant that he sorted all of this out, someone was going to have hell to pay.

He gently sat on the bed, and ghosted his finger tips across each scar.

Whip, he thought warily. It left a very distinctive mark, he knew that much from experience. "Dammit Hardison," he said softly.

Hardison stirred beneath him and sleepily turned to lay on his back, seeing the look on Eliot's face, he pushed himself up against the headboard, now more alert, and met Eliot's gaze steadily. "El? What's wrong man? Is it Parker? Cuz you know she likes to stay still like that for fun sometimes-", he stopped his rant as Eliot's face took on an even more serious look. He frowned a little, "Eliot...just tell me what happened."

Eliot pulled himself farther unto the bed and took Hardison into his arms. "Your back, I saw them, the scars."

Hardison sighed and Eliot waited for an explanation. A a few calculated moments came his reply, "It's like the ultimate game of chance," he said, "Sometimes you get a great foster parent like Nana...and sometimes you don't"

In that moment Eliot had made up his mind for what came next. In the morning he would tell Nate he needed some time off for a personal job, and within that week, someone was gonna wish they'd never been born. As for now? Right now he was content with just holding Hardison, and keeping some of his demons at bay.

~Fin~