75 Godiva, stupid-o'clock Monday

[vdistinctive]

To say that Eliot was dragging would be an understatement. He'd just woken up from the absolute weirdest, most depressing week ever (which was saying something), during which he'd basically been a mindless killer drone with a drill for a hand, and literally all he wanted to do was be home with his partners and do comforting, human things like cook and eat food and then sleep.

The only saving grace was that Parker and Hardison were right there the moment he woke up, both also now normal and healthy, and that they probably wouldn't mind too much if he took a little while to go from "spoke in weird wordless groans for a week" back to "speaking actual sentences and interacting with people". Frankly, the "Big Daddy" had been a little too close to what he might have been if he'd spent enough time working for Moreau than he really wanted to deal with.

[for them's in the narrative and . . . whatever the hell speed play it ends up being]

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[vdistinctive]

Eliot didn’t quite melt into the scalp massage the way he usually would, but his shoulders started to unlock, and he leaned a little harder into Hardison, a low hum in the back of his throat.

That was a little too close to a groan, though, so after a moment he opened his mouth (god it was nice to have a mouth again).

“Sorry.”

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Ain't nothin' you gotta apologize for," Hardisom murmured. "You ain't do nothin'. It was this island."

[vdistinctive]

He was the reason they’d all come here, though. He didn’t regret it — couldn’t , this island had given him too much— but that didn’t stop him from feeling responsible.

“Should eat,” he said, voice gruff from the effort of remembering to speak.

He was reluctant to pull away from the others and go to the kitchen.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Then we can maybe order takeout in a bit," Hardison said, reluctant to let go and let him. "We can trust Val to fetch the bag, right?"

[vdistinctive]

Eliot huffed, closing his eyes again. "Wanna cook."

Not that he made any sort of move to actually go, you know, do that.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Dinner," Hardison offered. "Hell, even lunch."

Just...not yet, okay? He hadn't finished clinging.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot cracked his eyes open with a frown. “Time ‘zit?”

He honestly had no clue. Or what day it might be, either. Apparently guys hopped up on mutagenic drugs fused to diving suits didn’t have much use for time pieces.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Bird o'clock," Hardison said quietly. "Just bright enough to peek through the curtains. Too early to get up."

Or at least, for Hardison to let go.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot pried his eyes open to give Hardison a Look. “When’s the last time you ate?”

Oh hey, an entire sentence. It was still soft and rough, but he very nearly sounded human again.

It’d always been easier to take care of others than to take care of himself.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Uhhh..." A convincing lie did not occur to Hardison in time, dammit.

He blamed the lack of sleep.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot rubbed a hand down his face. “Dammit, Hardison.” He started the long, reluctant process of feta fling himself from his partners.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Noooooooooo..." Hardison whined, trying to cling to Eliot. "No, this is better."

[vdistinctive]

"You gotta eat," Eliot said. He was so, so tempted to just stay where he was, but. "It's a rule."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"I'mma eat!" Hardison protested. "...Inna bit. Later. Snuggles now, that's a rule, too."

That he just made up.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot huffed, but let himself be dragged back into the snuggling.

"You're lucky you're cute."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Ain't that why you gon' marry me?" Hardison asked, wrapping his arms and legs around Eliot lest he make another unwise bid for freedom.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot actually managed a chuckle at that. "One of the reasons."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Right, I'm smart, too," Hardison said, his head resting on Eliot's shoulder.