75 Godiva Street, Friday afternoon

[vdistinctive]

So on the bright side, the unreasonable horniness of the last week was finally subsiding. No, wait, not the bright side. Eliot hated bright things. The dark and quiet and filled with painkillers side.

Eliot was very, very hungover. He blamed Pam. He wasn't entirely sure he remembered who Pam was, but he knew some woman had handed him a bottle of absinthe, and said woman seemed like a reasonable scapegoat for how Eliot felt right now.

He was pretty sure he'd made out with Vic. He'd definitely flirted around a bit. He'd drunk -- he didn't even know, but it was likely even Nate would be appalled.

Oh, and there was the whole thing where he went home with and slept with a vampire, last night. Navaan was not in the bed when he got up eventually to go let the dog out, so at least he got to avoid the whole morning after awkwardness, and while he remembered some teeth action, none of his hickeys broke the skin. So there was that, at least.

Right now he was working on cooking up a nice, messy omelette to put in his stomach along with the aspirin. It was taking a little while, since he refused to turn any lights on in his kitchen.

[ooc: Because there are at least two people on the island now who would want to poke the hungover Eliot. Open!]

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[vdistinctive]

"What -- that wasn't -- Aimee was -- I ain't talkin' about this." He was way too hungover to talk about this. He finished off his omelette and groped blindly for the bottle of painkillers on the counter. ". . . You do mean in the stables that one time, right?"

Because Eliot hadn't done a damn thing in front of that pink pony. It was important to him that Hardison knew that.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

It was important that everyone knew that.

"To the best of my knowledge it was only the one time," Hardison said, sliding the pills to Eliot. And then getting him a glass of juice to take them with. You took care of your team, even then they were kinda hilariously pathetic. "But if you have a kink you need to tell me about, this is an open and non-judgmental space."

He was gonna go in for a hug now.

[vdistinctive]

It was a little sad that Eliot's natural response to Hardison trying to hug him was to hug back -- and then realize what he was doing and get prickly. "The hell you doin', man? Your damn shirt's on inside out."

The "thank you for the assistance and the juice" was silent.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Oh, is it?" Hardison asked, clinging to Eliot because, again, that was their shtick. "I forgot to check when I put it on today."

After Eliot struggled to get out of the hug for long enough, Hardison stepped back of his own volition and pulled off his shirt. Totally casually. Really. What was he supposed to do? Keep it on inside out?

[vdistinctive]

And now Eliot actually wanted a hug. At least it was hopefully too dim in here for Hardison to catch him staring.

Val, who'd been watching the whole proceedings from the doorway to the living room, came trotting forward when Eliot went quiet and gave a little yip.

They were done making noise! It was time to feed her now, right?

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Hardison would have liked to say that him dropping his shirt to the ground was part of a smooth, calculated effort to continue seducing Eliot. It was not. It was solely due to the fact that there was now a puppy in the kitchen, one who clearly needed Hardison love and snuggles right now.

"Puppy!" he squealed--yes, squealed. Sorry about your hangover, Eliot, but puppy. "Oh my god, you precious, precious angel, come to papa, yes I love you already."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot groaned and downed at least twice the recommended dosage of his painkillers.

Admittedly, the look on Hardison's face made the extra stabby headache pretty worth it. "Hardison, meet Val."

Val, for her part, was wagging her tail hard enough her entire back end wobbled, barking and yipping in return and licking whatever might happen to get into tongue range.

Maybe this guy would feed her!

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Of course he would! Would she like steak? Or maybe sausages? Had Eliot made a sandwich recently? Cause Val could have a sandwich if she wanted.

"She's so beautiful, man," he said, sniffling either because of emotions or allergies, but whatever he didn't even care. "I ain't never had a puppy before."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot scowled. "Unless you're plannin' on walkin' her up and down the stairs out there three times a day, you don't have one now." On Parker, he'd've gone with paying for Val's vet expenses. She was Eliot's puppy, dammit.

Val didn't care. Val was everyone's puppy. She tried to climb up Hardison's leg.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Oh, baby girl, you don't have to climb, let me pick you up," Hardison said, bending down to scoop her up into his arms and cradle her to his chest. Only then did he level a glare at Eliot. "You can't limit love, Eliot," he said. "You just have to accept it. Like my love for Megabyte here."

[vdistinctive]

"For -- you can't just rename my dog, Hardison!" Not like he'd just swooped in and bought out Eliot's diner, walked up to Eliot's fridge, laid claim to any damn thing he pleased. . . .

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Really, you'd think that previous interactions would suggest that Hardison could indeed do exactly that!

"But look!" he said. "She likes it! Lookit her little tail wagging!"

Which had everything to do with her new name and nothing to do with her being held, scritched, and fussed over!

[vdistinctive]

"Val," Eliot said, and the puppy straightened up in Hardison's arms, ears pricking up at attention. He winked at her and she went back to panting and wiggling and attempting to lick Hardison's chin off. "She likes that you're cuddling her."

Which -- who wouldn't?

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Especially with Hardison's shirt still puddled on the floor.

Also, damn Eliot for winking. And damn him for being even momentarily jealous of an innocent puppy for being on the receiving end of it. "Well, she can have all the cuddles she wants. You got something to feed her. I bet she's hungry."

Don't even let Hardison watch Val, Eliot. Not if you didn't want to come home to a dog shaped like a tennis ball.

[vdistinctive]

"Got some puppy food in the fridge. She can have one of those." The food was homemade. Stored in little individual glass containers that served no possible adult human male consumption needs.

Somehow, despite the snow storm and the sex pollen, Eliot had still managed to already buy a lot for that puppy.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

As was only right and proper!

"I wanna feed her!" Hardison said. "Yo, man, let me do it, all right?"

...It was entirely possible that Eliot could get Hardison to walk her up and down the stairs three times a day if he played his cards right.

[vdistinctive]

Would do him good, get some of that fresh air and exercise.

"Sure," Eliot said. "Her bowls are in the cupboard there." Yes, that was plural. "She eats on the floor, though, not the counter. And not your lap or somethin'." Eliot pointed to the various dimly lit areas in question. "She gets one serving, man. She's a puppy, not a Thanksgiving turkey."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Yeah, you know what happened the last time Hardison got taken out for some fresh air and exercise? He'd nearly gotten shot, Eliot! Buncha rednecks with guns, all set and ready to kill themselves some government agents, of course focusing on the black guys first...

"Why can't she eat in my lap?" Of all of Eliot's instructions, that was clearly the most important one to focus on. "Also, what, still no lights? Not all of us can see in the dark, you know."

[vdistinctive]

"If you'd drunk as much as I had last night you'd be dead right now," Eliot said. "There's plenty of light comin' in the windows."

Which were curtained. Heavily.