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Eliot sat on his couch in his safe house once the team got back from Tennessee. He stared at the game on his TV screen that he had recorded. Though he had only fought one man, Eliot felt totally drained. Singing Kaye Lynn's song had drained him emotionally which was almost worse than being physically exhausted. He took a small sip of his beer but he wasn't actually enjoying the drink. In fact, he barely tasted it.
The sex with Kaye Lynn had been mind blowing, but now Eliot was kicking himself. He had promised himself that he was going to move on from Damien Moreau, but the man was creeping back into his mind like a poison. It sent a chill down Eliot's spine that the man still seemed to have total control over him. Moreau still dictated his life. His stomach clenched into a tight knot and he jolted forward. Eliot set down the beer and put his head in his hands. He willed himself not to throw up but his feelings about the past were sometimes so strong and intense that he became physically ill.
As Eliot was fighting the urge to throw up, his phone started ringing. When he didn't recognize the caller ID he decided to ignore the call. He wasn't in a mood to talk to his team much less anyone else. Eliot could suddenly smell the blood that used to soak his clothes, he could see the wide and blank staring eyes of his victims. Eliot lurched to his feet, his stomach roiling. Automatically he grabbed his phone before he made a mad dash for the bathroom. He didn't want a lecture from Hardison about not being available at the drop of a hat.
Eliot made it to the bathroom just in time as he doubled over and heaved his entire stomach contents into the toilet. He continued to wretch for a few moments before he fell back against the wall, shaking. He wiped his mouth and weakly dragged his fingers through his hair. As Eliot was trying to take in stabilizing breaths, his phone rang again with the same number. He narrowed his eyes and growled under his breath.
"Hello?" he growled.
"Kenneth Crane. That was quite a performance. I forgot how beautiful your voice was," a silky smooth and slightly accented voice purred. Eliot felt his stomach drop into his feet before heat flared up in him.
"How do you know that name?" Eliot gasped, tears starting to brim up in his eyes.
"Your fan site of course. It was quite popular until it mysteriously disappeared. I suppose it's a good thing I downloaded your video before it was gone," he said.
"Why would you want that video?" Eliot asked, his voice trembling.
"You have a beautiful voice. I missed it very much. You used to sing for me every night. Tell me, Kenneth, did you sing that song for me?" He questioned. A soft whimper left Eliot's mouth. While he hadn't sung the song for him, the man had been the one to cause such emotions.
"And why are y-you c-calling me?" Eliot questioned, nearly choking on his words. Moreau chuckled on the other end of the line. Eliot knew he was being played with, but there was something about the familiar taunts that was comforting.
"You're trembling. I can hear it in your voice. Do you miss me, baby?" He hissed. Another pathetic cry left Eliot's mouth. It pained him to admit how much he wanted to curl up and be held by Moreau.
"Yes," Eliot whispered. "Yes, I miss you." The man had always been able to make him feel like a weak and needy child. Eliot pulled his knees up to his chest, giving in to the biggest weakness he had.
"Do you want me to make everything better?" Moreau all but growled. "Do you need a big strong man to make you stop shaking?" Eliot let out an involuntary moan.
"I need you, Damien," Eliot said.
No more was said and there was a click on the other end of the line. Eliot curled up on his side feeling defeated. At the moment Eliot had no idea if the man was going to show up in his apartment or if taunting over the phone was as close as he was going to get to his drug of choice. Eliot let his eyes slowly drift shut, not bothering to move off the bathroom floor. While the exhaustion was suddenly all-consuming, he also had a sinking feeling that when he woke up he would be sick all over again. When Eliot relived his past as he slept, he always woke up violently retching. Eliot's last thoughts as he drifted off to sleep were of Damien Moreau.
Soft rays of sunlight spilled across Eliot's face. Eliot braced himself for the painful stiffness that came from sleeping on the bathroom floor. However, all he felt was a soft pillow and fluffy comforter wrapped around him. Frowning, Eliot sat up ever so slowly only to be pulled back down. Panic began to build up in his chest until he remember the phone call from the night before. In bed next to him was Moreau, just as Eliot had requested.
"How long have you been here?" Eliot whispered. He moved slowly, but eventually was enveloped in Moreau's strong embrace. Sometimes there was nothing better than being overpowered by a man more dangerous than himself.
"I arrived thirty minutes after our call ended. I had already been planning to see you so I've been making subtle moves to enter the country unnoticed. I was worried when I saw you on the floor. It's been several years since I've seen you hurt enough to sleep so soundly," Moreau cooed, his fingers dancing lightly over the younger man's skin. Eliot gulped.
"I-I'm n-n-not hurt," Eliot replied, the trembling starting all over again. Eliot felt Moreau shrug around him.
"If you weren't hurt in some way, you wouldn't be shaking so bad. And you certainly wouldn't have told me you needed me," Moreau said. "I know when my baby is hurting." Eliot whimpered softly and snuggled his nose into Moreau's chest.
"When I was singing yesterday, I was thinking about Belgrade," Eliot replied.
Eliot maneuvered in Moreau's arms so they were face to face. A lazy smirk crossed the older man's lips. Moreau gently kissed Eliot, turning the hitter into butter. Moreau deepened the kiss when he felt Eliot's body reacting to him. He carded one hand through Eliot's hair while his other arm remained wrapped tightly around Eliot's waist. Moreau was in complete control which was exactly what Eliot needed. Every once in a while, Eliot needed to let go. After a few more moments of kissing, Moreau pulled away slightly.
"I wish you would wear your ring, baby," Damien whispered. For the first time since he had returned home, Eliot gave a shy smile.
"I wear it any time I'm not around my team. I don't actually take home the girls that people see me with. All I ever want is to come home to you," Eliot said. Damien kissed Eliot hard causing them both to see stars.
"As often as I can, I will be here waiting for you, baby," Damien said.
Eliot gave a contented hum. He then let his eyes drop shut as he drifted off to sleep. For a while after Eliot fell asleep, Moreau lay next to him gently stroking his hair and occasionally kissing him. Normally, Moreau would leave before Eliot woke up. However, this time Moreau dozed off next to Eliot, content to play house for as long as possible.