FIC: I Love The Feel Of Me Under You Chapter 2

[paulacas]

 Title: I Love The Feel Of Me Under You – Chapter 2
Author: YanzaDracan
Fandom: Leverage pre-series
Pairing: Nate/Eliot
Rating: FRT
Summary: Prompt - skin silk and scars. They met before they met. I have to blame this on hubby’s choice of music.

 

http://yanzadracan.livejournal.com/23247.html

 

 

 

 

After they got back from Dallas, Nate spent more time in Eliot’s bed than his own. The three bullet scars on Eliot’s lower back had become his new obsession. There was something about the scars that tugged at Nate’s memory, but he could never quite pull it forward. 

The retrieval specialist refused to tell their story. Not wanting to cause a riff in their fledgling relationship Nate stopped asking. 

Eliot’s eyes snapped open to moonlight falling across the bed. He checked and saw Nate still deeply asleep. A sigh of relief escaped as he curled around Nate, using the familiar feel and scent to lull him back toward sleep. Nate wanting to know the story behind the scars had awakened the old nightmares. 

The mercenary had been between jobs. He’d come to LA because a buddy was opening a restaurant, and he’d invited Eliot to the opening. Tired of hotels, he’d taken an apartment in an older neighborhood where the spectrum of tenants went from older to young couples. 

Eliot Spencer, retrieval specialist, thought the gods must be laughing after he discovered one of the tenants in his building was an insurance cop for IYS. Nathan Ford, his beautiful blonde wife, Maggie and their six month old son, Sam lived in the apartment directly below Eliot’s. 

They were nodding acquaintances, Maggie often asking his advice when they’d meet at the local grocer. She knew Eliot as Nick Taylor, chef, which wasn’t a lie. He did a turn or three at his friend’s restaurant until things got running smoothly and his own people in place. 

Having heard some rumblings of gangs expanding into the neighborhood, Eliot’d taken to wandering the streets in the evenings hoping to head off any trouble. 

He’d stopped to talk to Nate and Maggie when he caught sight of an unfamiliar low rider coming around the corner. Without thinking he pushed Maggie and Sam into a niche in the building, putting Nate against her and himself between them and the street. 

The retrievalist heard the crack of the Mac 10’s as he urged Maggie and Nate down to make smaller targets. He felt the three impacts just above his kidneys, felt the burn, then the pain. He was thankful to see that the two bullets that passed through his sides missed those he was shielding. 

As he slid to the pavement, he remembered baby Sam’s wails of terror, and Dwight Yoakum singing as patrons rushed from the nearby bar.

 

I sang Dixie as he died 
The people just walked on by as I cried 
The bottle had robbed him of all his rebel pride 
So I sang Dixie as he died 

 

He said way down yonder in the land of cotton 
Old times there ain't near as rotten as they are 
On this damned old L.A. street 
Then he drew a dying breath 
And laid his head against my chest 
Please Lord take his soul back home to Dixie 

 

**The gods were laughing again.** Eliot thought as he lay face down on an LA street, the man who’d tried to track him on several occasions was now trying to keep him from bleeding to death until EMS arrived. 

Four days later, Nick Taylor disappeared from the hospital. Three days later, he disappeared from LA. 

Hoping that letting the memory run its course would allow him to sleep the rest of the night, Eliot buried his nose in Nate’s hair and closed his eyes. 

Wonderful smells had been wafting through the mansion all morning. His stomach demanding to be fed, Nate left his office for the kitchen. Passing through converted living room, he could hear the radio playing and Eliot’s clear baritone as he sang along with some country song.

 

He said listen to me son while you still can 
Run back home to that Southern land 
Don't you see what life here has done to me? 
Then he closed those old blue eyes 
And fell limp against my side 
No more pain, now he's safe back home in Dixie 

 

When he heard the lyric, “And fell limp against my side…”, the niggling in his memory became full blown. A beautiful young man, softly curling russet hair on his collar, a chef he’d told Maggie. Sam had loved the soft spoken man, his pudgy face lighting up when he’d hear the smoky voice. Nick Taylor had passed out in Nate’s lap after taking three bullets in the back protecting Nate and his family. 

Nate fell back against the wall and slid to the floor. The three bullet scars on Eliot’s back—the man he knew as Nick Taylor taking three bullets in the exact same spots. That’s why Eliot didn’t want to talk about the scars. 

Eliot stepped from the kitchen searching for the cause of the noise he’d heard. Worried but calm, he rushed to Nate. 

“Nate, what is it? Do I need to call EMS?” He started checking for injuries. 

Nate stopped Eliot’s search by cupping his face in his hands, and turning his face toward his. 

“You’re him.” Nate voice was full of wonder. 

Eliot covered Nate’s hands with his own. “Nate, you’re gettin’ creepy on me here. Him who?” 

He urged Nate up and into the kitchen, settled him at the table and got him a cup of hot sweet tea. Nate made a face at the sweet taste, but knowing he was freaking out Eliot, he didn’t complain. 

Feeling more himself, he reached for his enforcer’s hand and kissed the rough palm. 

“You left before we could thank you.” He was practically whispering as the memory closed his throat with too many emotions. 

“I left when…thank me for what?” Eliot was afraid he knew where this was going. He knew once again the gods were laughing at his expense. Some day he was gonna punch those pain in the ass gods. 

“Thank you for the life of my wife and son. You gave me seven years I might never have had with Sam and Maggie.” 

His next thought made his blood run cold. “I almost lost you before I met you--Almost lost this.” He tangled his fingers in Eliot’s soft curls and pulled until their foreheads met. 

The song cut across his awareness again. He didn’t know whether he loved it or hated it. That song was the backdrop to the day he almost lost everything including the young man holding him like he was never letting go. 

“I love you.” He whispered.

 

I sang Dixie as he died 
The people just walked on by as I cried 
The bottle had robbed him of all his rebel pride 
So I sang Dixie as he died 
I sang Dixie as he died

 

 

Comments

[elebridith]

Wow. Amazing idea and great use of the song. And I like how you let him get along in the end with Sophie in the first part. Wonderful story!

[yanzadracan.livejournal.com]

Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it. It was supposed to be a CF, but it wouldn't stay short & it wouldn't let me cut out a chunk. Then Sophie & Eliot decided they needed to bury the hatchet & not in Sophie's head...LOL. Coming home hiking along the river, hubby was playing a mix I made for when he's in his big truck, & there was Dwight & this picture popped in my head & I got all choked up--by the time I got home I was up 'til 3 getting it all down.

I don't know what's worse writing fanfiction or writing fanfiction with menopause...*runs from all the voices LMAO*

[desariwalker.livejournal.com]

Wow, what a great story! Very original idea, and you crafted it so beautifully. Wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing it.

[yanzadracan.livejournal.com]

Thank you. Your comments inspire me to do better.