Two months into dating Parker and Hardison, it's starting to feel a little less surreal. That it's something that's actually happening. They all technically have their own places, but most of the important stuff has drifted into Hardison's apartment, his vials of T in the medicine cabinet and Parker's bunny in the hammock.
He makes them dinner because cooking is one of the few acts of love he's good at, and also because watching them poison themselves with sugar cereal and two liters of orange soda and gummy frogs is driving him a little bit mad. Sometime they'll tease him about it, because they tease him about everything, but they always clean up their plates, and if he's really good, ask for seconds.
Eliot's just come back from the store with the ingredients for pulled pork when Hardison claps him on the shoulder and says that Parker's on the roof.
"Good to know." he says, a little confused, but if he tried to parse out every nonsensical thing the two of them said, he'd be stuck in an infinite loop. He holds back a groan when he realizes that Hardison's syntax is leaking into his brain, only partially understood.
"Oh right, she hasn't done it to you yet. Basically when she wants to have a talk about feelings and stuff, she likes to be up high. Also sometimes for fun, but she texted me and said she wanted to talk to you about something." he says, holding up his phone for proof, even though the letters are way too small for him to see.
"Just me?" he asks, because even before they were dating, there weren't many Eliot-and-Parker interactions where Hardison wasn't there. There was brunch, because Hardison couldn't be bothered to get up earlier than ten, and on cons he tended to stay in Lucille, but in general things felt unbalanced without him.
"Yep. It's nothing bad, I promise, man." he says, and maybe it's ill-advised but Eliot does trust those promises, with his life. So he puts away the stuff that needs to be refrigerated and climbs the flight of stairs to the roof. Sure enough, Parker is there, without a carabiner, just sitting on the edge and swinging her legs back and forth.
"Hey." he says, carefully walking towards her, and she pats the space next to her with a hand, so he sits. There's a pause, because he's not sure if he should say something else, but just as he's starting to clear his throat, she speaks.
"Do you like sex?" Eliot wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say, but that wasn't it.
"What do you mean, we've had sex." he points out, face slightly flushed. While he's never been a gentleman, something about speaking so frankly felt uncouth.
"But do you like it?" she says, tilting her head to one side, boring into him with those lovely blue Parker eyes.
"Why wouldn't I?" he says, a tad defensive.
"I don't, sometimes. I don't like being touched without warning, because it feels like it's not my choice, like it used to be. I don't like cum in me either, it feels gross." He feels a little bit ashamed, hearing that. She's not doing this to be rude, or weird. She wants to know if they're doing something he's not comfortable with, and it means a lot, but he's not good at just talking about things. Saying what he wants, and expecting anyone to care.
He also wants to destroy every person who dared to hurt her, but that's a constant.
"I've never been...you know. If that's what you're asking." he says. It's not a lie. It's not exactly the truth either.
"It's not. I feel like I was pretty clear with my question." she says, and he sighs.
"What makes you think I might not like sex?" he asks. He's bad at this, but he's trying, and he hopes it shows.
"Most times you watch, which is fine, and fun. You get us off, sometimes, and you're good at it, but one time Alec reached for your belt and you flinched." she notes, ticking off boxes like he's some kind of security system. Despite the discomfort of it all, he feels proud, that she's noticed. She has trouble with it, on occasion.
"Eliot, please." she says, and he's weak for it.
"Fine. It wasn't safe, to have all-the-way sex. I never got bottom surgery, don't want bottom surgery, and I pass so well that people expect certain stuff to be there." he says, gesturing to the general area.
"I know you don't." he says, frustrated, not at her, but at the situation. "It's just, new, I guess. I haven't had anyone touch me like that since before I transitioned."
"So, you've never had guy sex." she says, and it makes him smile, let out a chuckle.
"That's one way to put it."
"Do you want to? Do you want to fuck us?" The thought of it, of thrusting up into her the way Hardison does, of taking his pretty little ass and wrecking it, it's a nice thought. The kind of thought that makes him cross his legs and gulp.
"Yea." he says, clearing his throat. "Except, I don't exactly have the equipment, darling."
"Alec has a cock in his dresser. He's got a lot of things actually. I don't know what all of it was." It's not particularly surprising, somehow, that Hardison was a kinky kind of guy, even though he's yet to see him do anything that wasn't vanilla. Parker probably, making romantics of both of them.
"How'd you come to find that out?"
"The drawer was locked, I was curious." Of course she was.
"I'm not taking a hand-me-down dick. But I'll...look into it." he says, clearing his throat.
"Cool. What's for dinner?" she asks, standing up and walking back towards the stairwell, seemingly pleased with how the conversation had gone, already moving on.
"Pulled pork, Texas style. It's sweet." The compromise from his preferred spicy style is worth it for the curve of her smile, and especially for the press of her lips against his cheek.
"Sounds yummy. I'm going to take a nap."
"Mmkay." he says, watching her slip away, and starts to put all the scattered emotions into their proper boxes, compartmentalize. He groans as he realizes he has no idea where to start with this, and he only knows one person who does.
He really wishes there was a how-to guide on how to ask your boyfriend where to buy a dick.