im_torchwood

Eliot

Jack was on hiatus and enjoying his vacation. He'd hit Broadway and the West End, and now he had tickets to Hamilton in LA Friday night so he'd come home. Itching for a show, Jack couldn't find a musical on stage except a few local school productions. Now that Urban Legend was in the second season, high school was probably a bad look. He'd been scolded enough to know when to dial it down.

He'd found a diner, though. A diner he'd never heard of and immediately got in the car to enjoy his night.

He walked in wearing a blazer over a tshirt and shiny black trousers.

"One?" the hostess asked, then led him to a seat without waiting for an answer.

"Thanks," he smiled, taking the menu...but surveying the place.

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One thing that Eliot appreciated about Jenny was that she always sat the hot guys in his section. He walked over and pulled his dapper little notepad out of the pocket on his apron and smiled at the guy. "Hi," he said. "I'm Eliot. Can I get your drink order? Though I should warn you that after I bring it to you you're going to have to wait a click because I'm up next." He nodded up to the girl singing the last lines of "Memory" while standing on the bar.

"Gonna make sure I'm thirsty, huh?" Jack smiled flirtatiously. "I'll have a whiskey neat and a water since it sounds like I'll need it."

Oh. Well then.

"Coming right up, handsome," he said. He flirted with the women too, for the tips, but this was more fun.

He left, and just a few minutes later returned. He carefully set the whiskey and water in front of him, and then asked with a smile, "When I'm back in a few, be ready to tell me what you're hungry for."

He gave him a nod and wink, then watched his ass as he took the stage.

Jack sipped his whiskey, eyes locked on Eliot the whole time.

They always discussed set lists at the beginning of the night, made sure that things fit together, and they had a good mix. No one who could rap worth a damn was on tonight, so Eliot had been tapped for Hamilton.

He always moved like someone who was meant for much grander venues, like the spotlight followed him whether it’s real or imagined. His uniform vest was unbuttoned at the top, silk scarf undone just enough to suggest carelessness, and when he climbed up onto the bar it was with the easy arrogance of a man who knows exactly how to command attention.

The first plinking notes of You’ll Be Back from Hamilton started up, and Eliot’s lips quirked into a smirk. He did like this song. Playful, petty, possessive—a perfect fit.

"You say... the price of my love's not a price that you're willing to pay…"

Jack leaned forward. He'd been flirting, but the guy was good.

Really good.

He forgot the drinks completely.

When the chorus hit Eliot didn't hold back—his voice swelled with dramatic grandiosity, his expression slipping into something halfway between a smirk and something sharper.

"‘Cause when push comes to shove
I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love!"

He gestured grandly on “battalion”, spinning back toward the mic stand with a flourish. Laughter ripples through the crowd, but Eliot’s focus didn't waiver.

And then at the end of the song, he took his own spin on it, singing it like a sad love song.

"When you're gone, I'll go mad
So don't throw away this thing we had
'Cause when push comes to shove
I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love..."

When he finished, there was a smattering of applause, and he tied his apron back on before going back over to the hot guy in his section. "The whiskey not to your taste?" he asked with an arched eyebrow when he noticed it hadn't been touched.

"You're fucking amazing," he marveled, completely ignoring the question. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

Some of the cockiness fell from Eliot’s face at the second part. Well at least the guy didn’t recognize him, he thought. At least it wasn’t, omg what happened to you how did you fall so far.

“I mean the tips are very good,” he said lightly. “Got any requests? I’m up again in forty five minutes if you’ll still be here.”

"Knock it off, I'm serious," he said, motioning him closer.

"Tell me this is a back up gig and you're the George I'm seeing tomorrow night," he said.

Eliot did move closer. He leaned over the table and said, "That's very flattering. I am, however, much hotter than him." He did know who was playing George in the Hamilton tour, actually. Knew him personally. Didn't particularly like him, either.

"Uh, yeah. You are. But I appreciate the confidence," he smiled.

He offered a hand.

"I'm Jack."

Eliot shook his hand. Then said, "You know, if I stay here flirting with you, the tips on my other tables are going to be total shit. You planning to make it up to me?"

Jack actually reached and pulled out his wallet to check his cash. A quick calculation, then he flashed him a smile.

"Go do your job. We can discuss our tips when you get off," he purred, obviously not talking money.

Eliot blinked at him. "I'm off at ten," he said. "And ah... you want some food?"

"Might as well. You pick. There's not much I won't swallow," he said, keeping up the smile and gaze with utter confidence.

It wasn't that Eliot wasn't used to customers flirting with him, but they usually weren't both this hot and this shameless.

"Got it," he said. "Be right back. Sure you don't have any song requests?"

"You already knocked my socks off," he said.

"How are you at golden age tunes?" he asked then.

"I'm good at everything," Eliot said cheerfully.

"Everything? Then I guess Anything Goes," he told him.

He picked up his water to sip. Finally.

Eliot only smiled at him, and walked away.

About ten minutes later, he came back with a burger - simple, but the best thing on the menu in his opinion. "I hope you're hungry," he said with a smile, and was about to ask if he wanted another drink, when the opening notes of Anything Goes started up.

"Whoops that's my cue," he said with a wink, and hopped back over to ehe bar. He took the mic and rolled his shoulders like a cat stretching in the sun.

“Times have changed,
And we’ve often rewound the clock—”

His voice was smooth and teasing, a silk ribbon winding through the melody. Unlike before, he hopped off of the bar and worked the crowd, weaving between tables with effortless grace. He didn't really bother looking anywhere else though—why would he? His attention was mostly on Jack, who was watching him intently.

Good.

He kept going, eventually upping the ante.

“The world has gone mad today,
And good’s bad today,
And black’s white today,
And day’s night today—”

He slipped effortlessly into a slow, prowling strut back toward the bar, but just before he turned, he let his fingers just barely trail the back of Jack's chair. A touch so fleeting it might have been accidental, but they both knew better.

“Anything goes!”

Eliot’s lips curled around a smirk mid-note, barely missing a beat before he finished the song.

As Eliot came off stage, Jack was on his feet clapping. The burger was barely touched- mostly picked apart and all the offensive toppings pushed aside. He'd only gotten as far as the disassembly before he'd been captivated.

Eliot glanced over at Jack, and a smile tugged at his lips. But he checked on all of his other tables, closing out a couple of them, before returning to Jack.

"You should come back every night, I could really use my own cheering section," he teased.

"I might," he said.

Jack checked his watch and looked around.

"Closing up?" he asked, the answer obvious. "Can I give you a ride? I'll be out in the lot in the black SUV."

Eliot glanced up at the clock on the wall, looked at Jack for a moment, and then nodded. "I'll be done in about ten."

Then he smiled and put a piece of paper on the table. "Here's your check."

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