Prompt: Nate/Eliot/Sophie, explaining their relationship to Hardison and Parker
(with, like, a thousand apologies to sheryden, who deserves better than my crack. ^_^;;; )
“I don’t get it,” Parker declared flatly.
“This right here is messed up,” Hardison muttered, shaking his head and frowning.
Eliot glared at Nate. “I told you we shouldn’t tell them,” he growled.
Nate raised an eyebrow back. “It was Sophie’s idea to have this conversation, don’t get pissy at me.”
“I mean, do you take turns? But Sophie doesn’t have a – oh! Unless she uses a strap-on?” Parker wondered, eyeing Sophie curiously.
“No, Parker, of course I don’t use a strap-on,” Sophie snapped, scowling.
“You could,” Nate pointed out mildly.
“Well, of course I could, but – “
“Let’s not get crazy. Nate’s about all the dick I can handle in this relationship,” Eliot muttered.
“It’s like if Archie hooked up with Betty and Veronica together. Like, end of the world, cataclysmic stuff, people!” Hardison burst out, sounding traumatized. Then he frowned thoughtfully. “Although Nate’s more a Reggie than an Archie, really. Which is even weirder.” He shook his head at Nate, eyes wide. “My childhood, man! My childhood is forever tainted!”
Nate shrugged and smirked. “It was mostly Eliot’s idea, really. Blame him. Although I would rather be a Reggie than an Archie. Archie was kind of pathetic.”
“Hey!” Parker protested.
“…not your Archie, Parker.”
“Oh. Okay. So, does this make Eliot like our creepy uncle instead of our big brother?”
“Dammit, Parker, no, I’m not – hey. Wait a damn minute. If Nate’s Archie, are you calling me Betty or Veronica, Hardison?” Eliot demanded with crazy eyes.
“Hey, man, Sophie’s an elegant brunette and kind of a princess, you can cook and sometimes you wear a ponytail. Even if you’re not blond, you’re still totally Betty in that equation,” Hardison pointed out.
Eliot growled and strained forward against the hand Nate casually dropped on his shoulder.
“Wait, who’re Betty and Veronica? Are Nate and Eliot crossdressers now?” Parker demanded.
“Oh… hell no. Parker. The mental images. You’re killing me,” Hardison whimpered, pressing his fingers into his eyes.
“No, that’ll be me,” Eliot grumbled, still glaring even as he allowed Nate to tug him in against his side and Sophie to half drape herself across his lap.
“I still don’t get it,” Parker muttered. She wrapped her arms around one of Hardison’s firmly. “But you can’t have Hardison, too.”
“Ya’ll are freaky,” Hardison declared, laying one large hand over Parker’s slender fingers grasping his bicep.
“Well, I’m glad we had this talk,” Nate said loudly. “And now let’s never speak of it again.”
“I know where you sleep, Hardison,” Eliot rumbled threateningly, squirming stubbornly against his captors.
“Oh, bugger this,” Sophie muttered, and proceeded to try kissing Eliot into submission.
Nate looked on with interest for a moment before waving his free hand in the general direction of the door. “That’s all. You can go now,” he muttered distractedly, leaning in to join in Sophie’s efforts.
Hardison tugged a curious Parker away and shut the door firmly on the three entangled forms, doing his best not to notice how Eliot’s angry growling seemed to have shifted to something disturbingly like a contented purr. Or that someone in there was cooing endearments to ‘Betty.’
“That is gonna haunt my dreams for a while,” he muttered.
“Yeah, me too,” Parker agreed. “Eliot with blond hair? Yikes.”