A/N – Written for my friend, Havenward. It might not be exactly what you wanted, but I hope you like it anyway. Merry Christmas, lovely, :)
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Eliot has barely taken the cookies out of his oven before Hardison is there, grabbing one before Eliot can stop him. He's wearing some ridiculous t-shirt that says 'there are only 10 types of people in this world: those who understand binary, and those who don't,' and Eliot won't admit it out loud, but he thinks Hardison looks inappropriately hot in it.
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"I thought you didn't bake."
Eliot doesn't even bother scowling at the bemused tone in Hardison's voice.
"It's Christmas, man, shut up."
Hardison replies, with something he surely thinks is clever, but all that comes out is muffled noises and cookie crumbs.
Eliot rolls his eyes before glaring at the other man, telling him with a look to get away from the cookies until they're done cooling.
As if on cue, Hardison's eyes go wide as he struggles not to spit the cookie to the floor.
Eliot does smirk then, watching with amusement as Hardison stalks to the fridge and takes a long gulp of milk, straight from the carton.
"I warned you," he shrugs as Hardison finally stops flailing.
"This," Hardison gives Eliot his impression of the hitter's 'warning glare,' "does not count as a warning. You glare all the time. How am I supposed to know what means what?"
"It's easy," Parker interrupts as she moves into the space between them, snatching the rest of Hardison's cookie from Eliot's counter.
She's still wearing her elf costume, sans cape. It makes him want to... fill her with holiday cheer, as it were. But not until he's done being annoyed.
"Oh?" Eliot says, not disguising his skepticism.
"Yep," Parker nods, swallowing the last bit of the cookie before leaning back against the counter, beside Hardison.
"That glare you're giving me now, that's the 'there's something wrong with you' glare. I get that one a lot."
Eliot snorts, "Lucky guess. Even I can do the math on the odds of that one."
Hardison shrugs, "Man's got a point, there, mama."
Parker continues, nonplussed.
"Your eyes get squinty with that glare, and even squintier when you're actually angry."
"I'm not squinty," Eliot glares at her before he can help it.
"Ooh! That one's the 'you hurt my feelings but I'm hiding it with annoyance' glare. See, Hardison, his eyes don't get squinty, but his cheeks get red and his brow furrows."
"Hmm," Hardison says, tilting his head to study Eliot's face better.
"Hmm, nothing," Eliot says, rolling his eyes, "Even if you can tell them apart, you can't just catalog my expressions and give them names, Parker."
"Can, too," she says, but she's not really paying attention. Her thoughts are already changing direction.
"It's not all bad, though," she continues, smiling as Eliot's face moves into the 'curious but cautious' glare.
"When we beat the bad buy, like really really beat him, your eyes tighten, just a little, and you smirk. It's like you're really happy, but don't want to show it."
Eliot sighs, "That's because I'm usually in need of medical attention, Parker."
"And I'm not real sure that counts as a glare," Hardison butts in, "Just to be fair."
"Thank you," Eliot says, even though he sounds pained to do so.
"And then there's the 'playing the bad guy' glare," Parker goes on, ignoring the guys' objections. "Your eyes go dead, and your face almost freezes in place." She pauses to think back, and shudders. "I don't like that one."
"Parker..." Eliot trails, unable to form the thoughts he's having into words.
"Doesn't matter, though," Parker cuts his trailing off, "None of them matter, except one."
Suddenly Hardison's laughing, looking at Parker with understanding.
Eliot is, understandably, annoyed.
"What's so funny?" Eliot demands.
They move as one, surrounding Eliot all at once; Hardison pulling the other man to lean against him, Parker pressing close, looping her arms around Eliot's neck.
Eliot gives them a glare, but Parker just laughs.
"That's the one," she says, swiping one hand across Eliot's cheek, before moving to suck the chocolate from her fingers.
"You made a mess," she says, shrugging.
She feels Hardison's chuckle through Eliot's chest. It makes her happy.
"I think you missed a spot here," Hardison says, with a teasing tone, as he leans down to lick a stripe down Eliot's neck, to the base of his throat.
Eliot grumbles, halfway between a moan and a sign of defiance.
Parker just grins.
"It's my favorite glare," she says, conversationally. As if her hands haven't wandered to the waistband of Eliot's pajama pants.
"Mhm," Hardison agrees, moving to nibble on the other side of Eliot's neck.
"At first your eyes go all squinty and all," she pauses to raise her hands in a monster claw motion, "grr like. Because you want to be angry."
Eliot just waits, leaning back more of his weight against Hardison, allowing the other man to trace idle designs on the thin cloth over his hipbones.
"But then," Parker continues, "You kinda... surrender. And your eyes go wide, like...no matter how many times you're with us, you always seem surprised to be here. Like we're gonna suddenly change our minds."
"You act like you're, I don't know," Hardison struggles to find the right words, "lucky or something."
Eliot blushes, but doesn't speak, choosing instead to pull Parker into a kiss before turning to Hardison and kissing him just as thoroughly. And if he bites the other man's lip a little too hard, it's his own damn fault for being so bite-able.
"Bedroom," Parker demands, grabbing them both by an arm and leading the way.
They'd be fools not to follow.
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Later, much later, when Parker's sleeping soundly between them, Eliot turns to face Hardison, giving him an easy grin.
"What?" Hardison asks, tilting his head up from his position on his stomach, "I got something on my face?"
"Nah," Eliot says, shaking his head before flopping back to his pillow and curling an arm around and over Parker, until his hand rests on Hardison's back.
"Then what's the look, man?" Hardison asks, though a yawn.
Say what you will, awesome sex is exhausting.
Eliot waits until he knows Hardison is mostly asleep before answering, but not so long that the hacker won't remember it in the morning.
"I am, you know," he says, shrugging, even though the motion is lost to Hardison's closed eyes.
"Mmm?" Hardison asks, though it's more of a mumble into the pillow at this point.
Eliot glares, and then laughs again, as he realizes everything Parker's said is true. He's not sure when she got so perceptive, but he's pretty sure Sophie's to blame.
"Lucky," he says, finally.
And he is.
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THE END