A/N OMG, my first SVU fic! And it's been hanging around for a long (L-O-N-G) time, because I wasn't sure if I liked it enough to post it. It's totally cliche, and it's been done about a jazillion times before, so don't expect too much! But anyway, here it is! I hope you enjoy it! :)
WARNING: THIS STORY IS RATED 'M': IT CONTAINS MATERIAL UNSUITABLE FOR PEOPLE UNDER THE AGE OF 18: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Disclaimer: SVU belongs to Dick Wolf, because who else would keep them apart for TEN seasons? If I had my way, they'd have been goin' at it like rabbits from Episode 2...but I do own Joe the Barkeep...
He had known the fallout would be bad. It was Merritt Rook, Ray Schenkel, Gitano...It was Gitano all over again. The child, the tossup between the job and each other. Only this time it was her that had been forced to choose. And that was the problem- she had made a choice. She had chosen him.
So he had known the fallout would be bad.
Elliot allowed the door to swing shut behind him. He glanced around, before making his way to the bar. The man behind the counter breathed a sigh of relief.
"Man, you musta had one tough case."
Elliot grimaced. You got no idea, man.
"Where is she, Joe?"
The bartender gestured to the far end of the bar, where a figure could be seen knocking back her drink as if she was dying of thirst.
"How many has she had?" Elliot asked, eyeing the numerous glasses littering the bar surface. Joe shrugged.
"Six or seven?"
"Doubles?"
"Mixture. Started on vodka straight off, though."
Elliot sighed heavily.
"Thanks for calling, Joe." The hefty man behind the counter smiled sympathetically.
"No problem."
The detective walked slowly down the bar.
"What are you doing here?"
Elliot smirked.
"Stopping you from ending up with a DUI."
Olivia glared up at him.
"I would have called a taxi," she snapped, her voice slurred. Her partner took the stool beside hers, carefully taking the glass from her hand.
"Yeah, well. I just saved you ten bucks."
She swivelled around to face him, her fierce scowl barely masking the pain and sorrow in her eyes.
"What do you want, Elliot?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"To talk."
"What about?"
"Why you took off outta the squad room without a word."
"I was tired."
He lowered his face to look her straight in the eyes.
"Bullshit," he murmured, "you left because you couldn't handle it anymore."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't fuck with me, Liv. There was nothing you could have done to save h..."
"Shut the fuck up, Stabler! Don't you think I know that? I've been doing this job a hell of a long time, so...so..."
Olivia grabbed her glass, downing the vodka and wincing slightly as it burned her throat. Elliot watched her slam the glass back to the counter, and once again moved it from her reach.
"I think you've had enough, Liv."
"Fuck you, Elliot!" his partner yelled, punching his chest, "Nearly ten years I've been your partner, and you don't trust me enough with my own life?"
Elliot grabbed her wrists, holding them tight and pinning his partner against the bar.
"Two things," he growled dangerously, "One, don't hit me. Two, this was exactly the reason I came after you. You've got so much shit going on, you're all over the place. And you know what? I've had enough."
"You son of a bitch!"
Joe the bartender was suddenly beside them, his face serious.
"I've seen you two get heated before. Take it outside or I'll call the 5-0," he warned.
"It's alright," Olivia spat, wrenching her arms from her partner's grip, "Elliot was just leaving."
"So is she," Elliot retorted, tugging her towards him.
"Get your hands off me, Stabler! Hey, Joe, give me the bottle."
Scowling as she grabbed the half empty bottle of vodka from the counter, Elliot lowered his head to whisper in her ear.
"You can walk out...or I'll drag you."
His chin brushed against her neck, and Olivia allowed her eyelids to flutter shut, feeling heat pool between her thighs. She heard her breath catch. A dull throbbing started up at the pit of her stomach, spreading lower and lower until it ran right down to her toes.
Sighing in frustration, Olivia managed to tear herself away, storming towards the door before Elliot had a chance to react. By the time he caught up with her, she'd already located his car and was leaning impatiently against it, carelessly swigging from the bottle as if she was dying of thirst.
"What took you so long?" she snapped. He chuckled humourlessly. Maybe she wasn't as drunk as he thought she was.
"What happened in Oregon, Liv?" he asked suddenly. A mixture of uncertainty, apprehension and pure rage appeared on her face.
"Why do you care?"
"You're my partner. Of course I fucking care."
"I'm your partner when it's convenient, Stabler. When you need someone to cover your ass, have your back, then I'm your partner. When I needed you, I'm just another woman who's been putting up with your crap for the last ten years."
That last comment had made something inside him snap, and Elliot was livid. Olivia could tell from the darkening of his eyes and the vein pulsing in his forehead.
"You just took off, Olivia! You didn't even bother saying goodbye!" he yelled. She glared at him.
"Well, you can't have missed me that much! A week later you're jumping into bed with Dani Beck!"
His nostrils flared under the strain of controlling his temper.
"Get in the car," he said dangerously.
"I'm calling a cab. Fuck off and leave me alone," Olivia snarled, the volume of her voice rising.
"No. Now get in the goddamn car."
The ride home passed in a stony silence, both detectives cursing the other. Olivia glared out of her window, her head spinning. In the driver's seat, Elliot was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were turning white, the muscle in his jaw clenching in anger.
Maybe she had had too much to drink, because the way his heavy, barely controlled breathing was echoing around the car definitely shouldn't be making her this hot. She squeezed her eyes closed at the sudden picture that flashed through her mind. Yeah, that was definitely heavy and barely controlled. Don't think it had much to do with anger though...
She stumbled out of the elevator, colliding with his side and giggling drunkenly. The now empty bottle of vodka swung loosely from her hand, her nails making a soft clink on the glass. Elliot gently pushed her towards her apartment, his face set in a steely calmness.
"Move your ass, Benson," he growled.
"Hey! Don't talk to me like that!"
They finally made it to her door, and Olivia patted her pockets as she tried to locate her keys.
"Where the hell are they?" she muttered, scowling.
"You mean these?"
His voice made her jump, and she spun around, gasping when she realized his face was no more than an inch from hers. The keys to her place dangled from his fingers, the jangling noise almost as irritating as the obnoxious smirk curling his lips. Those lips...When Olivia finally managed to speak, the voice that came out definitely wasn't her own.
"Give me my keys."
Reaching around her, Elliot stuck the key into the lock, leaning forward until his chest was pressed firmly against his.
"No," he said. Glaring up at him, Olivia grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him towards her.
"You...are an ass, Elliot Stabler," she hissed, her lips so close to his he could feel them moving with every angry word. He chuckled throatily.
"You're completely wasted, Liv." His partner frowned, pouting slightly.
"I am not!"
"You are, and I'm not going to take advantage of you."
Olivia leant back, her eyes narrowing fiercely.
"Jesus, Elliot! I'm practically throwing myself at you, and you still don't want me!"
His lips came crashing down on hers, bruising the soft skin. Elliot shoved her back against the door, roughly grabbing her backside and pulling her hips to his. Olivia released a groan from deep in her throat, feeling his rock hard erection pressing against her waist. He slid a hand up under her shirt, cupping her breast and squeezing gently.
"I want you," he replied in a low voice.
"Elliot," she whispered huskily, biting down on his lower lip. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, demanding and forceful. Olivia had promised herself a long time ago never to let a man touch her out of anger. But this was Elliot, her partner, her lifeline, and this was a whole lot more than anger. This was lust, pure, raw, furious...animalistic.
"Open the goddamn door," he growled, trailing his tongue down her neck. The rage in his voice only made her panties wetter. Great combination, Liv. Pissed off and horny.
"Why?" she replied belligerently. He bit her neck, the stubble on his chin rough against her skin.
"'Cause I don't think your neighbours would appreciate it if I fucked you up against the wall."
Holy shit. Olivia moaned, yanking his head back to hers and catching his lips in a fierce kiss.
"El...I can't get the door open."
Sensing her urgency, he spun her around, letting her unlock the door as he began to unbutton her shirt. She groaned in a mixture of relief and satisfaction when he pushed her into her apartment, and turned her back around so he could kiss her. Yanking the flimsy material from her shoulders, Elliot threw her shirt to the floor, his hands moving to grip her hips.
He kicked the door shut, shoving her up against the counter. Olivia ripped his shirt open, tearing it from his shoulders. Buttons flew across the kitchen, but she was too drunk, too aroused, to care. Elliot buried his head in her bare chest, using his teeth to pull down the satin cup covering her breast.
"Holy fuck," Olivia hissed, fisting her hands in his hair and pressing his head against her. A wet tongue flicked skilfully over her nipple, the mixture of cool air and hot breath driving her crazy. Elliot laid a trail of kisses up her neck, reaching her mouth. As she ground her hips against his, he groaned.
"You're killing me, Liv," he growled. She smirked, urgently undoing his belt buckle. The fullness in his pants lessened slightly, but his erection still ached uncomfortably.
"Do you know what it's like to want something so bad that it hurts?" he whispered harshly.
Olivia finally had the belt undone, followed by the button and fly, and was pushing his pants down his legs. He released a strangled groan as her cool hand encircled his length. Deciding that he was going to be in charge, Elliot grabbed her wrist, pinning her arm to the wall beside her head. He let his tongue flick into the shell of her ear, pressing his hardened length against her throbbing centre.
"You walk around in your fucking tight jeans, and your ass looks so damn hot..."
Her fingers guided his to her pants, and as Elliot made quick work of her button and zip, Olivia caught his lips in another fierce kiss. His voice reappeared in her ear, a sharp contrast to the almost gentle caresses of his hand as it dipped beneath the rim of her panties.
"Do you know how many times I had sex with Kathy and called out your name?"
Olivia groaned, feeling Elliot slide two fingers into her core.
"Shit," she hissed, "Elliot, you son of a bitch!"
A low chuckle escaped from between his lips, dancing right through her body until it reached the pool of heat in the pit of her stomach.
"Not so cocky when the alcohol wears out, are you?"
"Fuck off," Olivia gasped. She felt him grin against her skin.
"Fuck you first."
He pumped his fingers in and out, biting down on the spot just beneath her ear. After a moment, he pulled his fingers from her, and Olivia whimpered at the loss of contact.
"Elliot, you son of a bitch. Ten years and all I get is finger fucked?" she said bitterly, "What's the matter? That thing only work for blondes?"
It was bullshit and they both knew it. A growl tore from his throat, and when he suddenly rammed his entire length into her, they released a simultaneous groan of pleasure. Elliot shifted, but when Olivia winced, he froze.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, the unconcealed concern in his voice putting a smile on her face.
"I knew you weren't really mad at me," she teased huskily, looking up at him through heavily lidded eyes. Elliot's glare softened, the corner of his lips turning up in a sexy smirk. Pulling out until only the very tip of his erection remained inside of her, he slowly pushed back so that he was once again completely buried in her heat.
"Oh, I'm mad."
Olivia dragged his mouth back to hers.
"Shut up and move," she demanded, her voice muffled by his lips.
And move Elliot did. Setting a pace that had both of them fast approaching their climaxes, the male detective placed a trail of hot kisses down her neck, soaking up every moan his partner made.
"El...fuck, El..."
"'Livia...baby..."
The counter was cold against her bare back, the pain caused by the hard edge indistinguishable from the waves of pleasure he was causing. She felt the pressure mounting in the pit of her stomach, and threw her head back to allow him better access to the smooth skin of her throat. Elliot let his tongue trail over her soft skin, savouring the delicious mixture of salty sweat and pure Olivia.
Her back was definitely going to be bruised in the morning. His thrusts turned harder, more erratic, and the female detective knew that they were both close.
"El..." she gasped, "I can't..."
A hand slid between them to stroke her clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the swollen nub.
"Let it go, Liv," he murmured, his voice soft in her ear, "I'm right behind you."
The feel of his body so close to hers, his breath sweeping over her cheek, sent Olivia over the edge, and with a silent cry, she let herself fall into that abyss of pleasure and he was pounding into her and she knew she loved him and then oh god oh god oh god oh god holy fucking shit jesus oh god harderharderharderjesuschristElliotfuckinghell...
Her walls tightened around him, and Olivia felt him release into her. With a groan, Elliot went still, leaning over her and pressing her into the counter top. Their breathing evened out. God knows how long they stood there, just...being. After a moment, he pushed himself off her, pulling her upright with him.
"Jesus, 'Livia," he murmured, catching sight of the horizontal bruise already forming across her back, "Shit, I didn't..." Her hands found his forearms.
"It's fine," she replied breathlessly. He knew he was losing her. Elliot sighed heavily, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from her cheek.
"What happened to us, Livvie?" he asked quietly. She didn't answer, looking at the floor.
"You should go. Kathy's probably wondering where you are."
His breath caught.
"Don't do this, Olivia."
"Get the fuck out of my apartment," she whispered, watching him pull his boxers and jeans over his hips.
"No."
"What do you mean 'no'? Elliot, I can't deal with this right now!"
Elliot grabbed her wrists, stopping her from moving away.
"Then when?" he growled, "Ten years, Olivia. Ten fucking years."
"I'm not gonna be another one night stand for you, El. So leave."
"What if I don't just want a one night stand with you, huh?"
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and as one, they both glanced towards it. They both knew who it was.
"You should answer it."
"Do it for me," Elliot replied sharply. She glared up at him, ignoring the churning in her stomach when their smouldering eyes connected. Shit. Why did he always make her want to screw him senseless and kill him at the same time? She guessed that was life.
"Get out," she repeated in a dangerous voice.
It was only when the door shut behind him that Olivia allowed the tears to finally fall. His sticky fluid was still warm on her thighs, the tingling at her centre fading but still strong. So here she was, nearly the wrong side of forty, standing pretty much naked in her kitchen after being fucked senseless, watching the best thing in her life leave.
Olivia straightened her panties, and she fell back against the counter as the sobs became too much for her already fragile heart to take. She barely had time to wipe the tears from her cheeks before there was a pounding at the door. Her heart jumped, and crossing the room, she opened it, knowing beyond a doubt who she'd see on the other side. She shouldn't have opened it. After all, she was the one who had forced him to leave; it was her who had played the 'wife' card.
His mouth was prepared to speak, but seeing her standing on the other side with red eyes and dishevelled hair, the words disappeared.
And for the second time that evening, Olivia found Elliot's lips on hers.
"I'm sorry..." he murmured between kisses, "I'm sorry."
"You son of a bitch," she replied against his lips, although it held less conviction now than it had done previously. Even as she was calling him names, her arms were circling his back, pulling him closer. Elliot pressed his face into the crook of her neck, occasionally kissing the skin that still smelt of sex and smoke and Olivia.
"How'd we get so fucked up, Liv?"
"I don't know," she replied softly.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, his hands travelling a path up her spine, "I won't lose you."
She sighed.
"But we can't..." she began, before he shook his head.
"Do you love me?"
Olivia jerked her head back to look up at him incredulously.
"What?"
"It's a simple question, Liv. Do you love me?"
"You son of a bitch! How...how...how dare...you can't ask me that!" she spluttered. His lips brushed over hers. Elliot was quickly learning that it was an effective method of shutting her up.
"Let me make it easier for you," he said softly, his lips ghosting hers, "I love you."
And just like that, he'd knocked down a few more of her carefully constructed walls, and was barrelling straight to the centre of her heart. She dreamt (although she denied even to herself) of hearing him speak those words to her and mean them, but not like this. Definitely not like this.
"Elliot..."
"I love you," he repeated, "and unless I'm horribly mistaken, you love me too."
He'd always loved her stubbornness, thought it made her all the more intriguing, more of a puzzle for him to solve. Until now. Olivia narrowed her eyes, folding her arms and refusing to answer.
"Do you love me?" Elliot asked for the final time.
She had him by a string- dangling and just waiting to see how long he could last before he would snap. He had to admit that it was quite a turn on to know that she was capable of manipulating him the same way she'd manipulated confessions out of killers. Elliot dared to rest a hand on her hip, and she tensed beneath him. It was good to know that she wasn't as immune as she'd have him think.
Olivia froze at the heat radiating from his palm. Their entire relationship, partnership, whatever the hell they had together, was resting on her answer. She knew that. Elliot knew that, but if she didn't answer him this time, he'd leave it. He'd walk away, give her time to think, let her sleep on it. Olivia closed her eyes for a minute, as if the darkness behind her eyelids would make everything disappear. Elliot had never been good at waiting, but he forced himself to stick it out.
It was useless trying to fight it, she realized. Absolutely useless. Pointless, meaningless, futile, tiring, boring, demanding...Eventually, the single word slipped from between her lips.
"Yes."
I forgot to mention at the top that this takes place sometime during Season 10, but obviously, with a made up case. I'm also pretending that Elliot doesn't know exactly what happened in Oregon, and he and Kathy have a somewhat strained relationship. Finally, if you could leave me a review on your way out, that would be greatly appreciated! :D