Hardison leaned back and sighed. He hated having insomnia. It was all well and good for Eliot to sleep an obscenely short amount of time, he had stuff to do; Alec wasn’t set up like that. His timing, his scheduling, his life were all set up with the assumption that he would be sleeping through at least five hours of every day and preferably more like seven – eight was just far too much time to lose, and people who slept that much clearly didn’t understand their friend Mr. Caffeine Molecule. So here he was at four in the morning, sitting up alone on the couch. Eliot was up on the roof tending to his cucumbers and carrots. Parker was asleep in the middle of their huge bed – and since when was she the normal one in this relationship?
He stretched and turned off the TV, amazed that he was actually missing Billy Mayes’ touch on late night infomercials, and closed the laptop when he realized that his blurry eyes were making reading the screen impossible. He got up and went to the closet and pulled out a box that he had strategically hidden. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the couch and started to work.
It was about a half an hour later, his mind was off in that fuzzy place where it was just letting his fingers do what they were doing while it multitasked more low-priority things than Alec’s conscious mind could comprehend, when he heard a small giggle. And then a somewhat less-delicate snort.
“Dude,” Eliot’s voice said, full of laughter, “are you… knitting?”
Alec had no hope of hiding the yarn and needles at this point. Maybe if he’d been more aware, he could have stashed his secret under the couch, but that time was long passed. He turned to see both of his lovers standing and laughing quietly. “I couldn’t sleep. This relaxes me.”
They just laughed harder, but they came to the couch and sat on either side of him.
“Just when I think you couldn’t get any more manly,” Eliot continued.
“Man, shut up. Don’t you have a kitchen that’s missing you?”
Eliot scowled in the slightly dangerous way and Parker shifted in between them. “My boys,” she cooed. “You’re both so pretty.”
total crack!
He stretched and turned off the TV, amazed that he was actually missing Billy Mayes’ touch on late night infomercials, and closed the laptop when he realized that his blurry eyes were making reading the screen impossible. He got up and went to the closet and pulled out a box that he had strategically hidden. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the couch and started to work.
It was about a half an hour later, his mind was off in that fuzzy place where it was just letting his fingers do what they were doing while it multitasked more low-priority things than Alec’s conscious mind could comprehend, when he heard a small giggle. And then a somewhat less-delicate snort.
“Dude,” Eliot’s voice said, full of laughter, “are you… knitting?”
Alec had no hope of hiding the yarn and needles at this point. Maybe if he’d been more aware, he could have stashed his secret under the couch, but that time was long passed. He turned to see both of his lovers standing and laughing quietly. “I couldn’t sleep. This relaxes me.”
They just laughed harder, but they came to the couch and sat on either side of him.
“Just when I think you couldn’t get any more manly,” Eliot continued.
“Man, shut up. Don’t you have a kitchen that’s missing you?”
Eliot scowled in the slightly dangerous way and Parker shifted in between them. “My boys,” she cooed. “You’re both so pretty.”